A Single Decision
by Timewatch
Summary: Grievous decides to go up to where the Chancellor is held, aboard the Invisible Hand, just as Anakin is about to kill Dooku. He manages to capture them, and Dooku ends up in a bacta tank. The following events change the course of everything.
1. Chapter 1: It All Begins

Everything was going to plan. Despite Dooku's near-fatal wounds, Kenobi, Skywalker, and Palpatine were all captured and secured. And to think he had almost decided to stay on the bridge! That single decision to come up here might have won the war for him. General Grievous paced about, waiting until the holonet broadcast he was preparing could be sent to every single receiver in the Republic, as well as the CIS. The Count's stability for now was good enough that he had been brought up to watch Grievous's debut. Dooku wasn't able to do more than watch out of a bacta tank, to weakened to do anything else. Finally, the broadcast could be sent. A battle droid gave the general a nod, and Grievous stepped in front of the projector.

"Good morning, afternoon, or evening, people of the Republic, or Confederacy. I don't know who all is watching this, but it will be entertaining nonetheless. Heh heh heh… You see, I have some surprises planned." Grievous started laughing diabolically. "Look here, it's General Kenobi!" the cyborg exclaimed, dragging Kenobi in front of the projector.

"You'll pay for-" Kenobi was cut off, literally. With a few more movements, he was decapitated by Grievous. The Jedi was dead before his brain realized that it's body was in several pieces.

"Aw… Such a tragic death." Said the General sarcastically. "But wait! What's this?" Grievous dragged Anakin in front of the projector. Skywalker started shouting something unintelligible. "The Hero with no Fear… Ha!" The Hero with no Fear's head rolled across the floor. Palpatine looked shocked. His plans were coming apart before his eyes.

"It's not over yet! I have a special guest here too!" said Grievous excitedly. This was turning out to be the best day of the war for him. The General activated another lightsaber, and prepared to strike down the Supreme Chancellor.

"Grievous…" The Count tried to speak from the bacta tank, but to no avail.

"You will pay for this, droid!" Shouted Palpatine, and smashed Grievous headfirst into the wall with the force. He had knocked out the cyborg, and prepared to kill him. Lightsaber or no, it didn't matter. Palpatine advanced, then stopped as a single shot sounded throughout the room. One of the battle droids, a commander, had shot the Chancellor in the back of the head. The body of Palpatine collapsed on the floor. Dooku went unconscious from a mix of stress, shock, and pain from his injuries. This left the battle droid in charge.

"Uh… Get the bodies out of here; throw them out an airlock or something. Keep the weapons for the General. Bring the Count back to the medical bay, and it wouldn't do harm to get the General in there either. Oh, and turn off the broadcaster." Commanded the commander.

-_Invisible Hand_, medical bay-

"Finally. I was starting to think you'd never wake up…" Said a voice, probably a droids. "Sometimes you are terribly dull." There were only a few beings in the galaxy that could talk to him like that without consequence: Darth Sidious, Count Dooku, and A-4D, his medical droid. Since it was a droid talking, it had to be A-4D.

"What happened?" Asked the general.

"That Palpatine smashed your head into a wall. He was killed though. You had some serious damage, and I had to take out this chip here for your own good." A-4D showed Grievous a tiny chip, it was almost too small to see. "It was causing serious malfunctions. And I found in the area responsible for emotions in your brain. There was also tampering with your memory, but it's there for a reason." Grievous thought.

"What's the reason? I told them not to alter my mind."

"It's suppressing traumatic memories of the shuttle crash. I didn't think that they would be welcome… And that chip that controls your emotions, I assume you want to know more about it too?" The cyborg nodded. "Well, it seems to block out, or at least dim down, almost all emotions. It only leaves rage, hate, and anger. In fact, it heightens them." Explained A4-D.

"I told them not to alter my mind…" Grievous muttered, crushing the arm of the chair he was in. "I'm going to talk to Dooku."

"That's not a good idea, master. You're still recovering from-"

"Shut up." Grievous stumbled out of the room, to where Dooku was. He half walked, half fell to the bacta tank. "I told you I didn't want my mind altered!" Rumbled Grievous angrily. It took some time for Dooku to respond.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Spoke the Count.

"Altering my brain against my wishes doesn't matter?" Questioned the General. Nearby droids and organics alike backed away without noticing, such was the menace in the cyborg's voice.

"Not anymore. It's over, Grievous. You killed them both." Grievous was confused.

"What's over? And why?"

"The plan. Darth Sidious… He is- well, was Palpatine. His plan was to bring Anakin Skywalker to the dark side, and wipe out the Jedi so the Sith would rule. You killed them both, and Kenobi on top of it. I was temporary." Grievous was shocked. He killed Sidious? "I don't have much time left, but there is something you must understand."

"You don't have much time left?" Asked Grievous. Dooku couldn't die. As much as he disliked him, he knew that the Confederacy needed him.

"This body will die soon. I will not live to see my own plans through. I was going to betray Sidious, ever since I figured out what he was plotting. He played both sides of this war, like a game. It was never a game to me, General. The Confederacy is real. I believe what we're fighting for. I know you don't care why you fight." Grievous was about to protest, but he realized this was true. "It's imperative that you understand. You must realize the larger picture. You must not fight simply because you hate the Jedi, or Republic, or just want to fight. You must fight for what I fought for. What everyone else fights for. An end to the corruption and injustice. A better future for _everyone_, everywhere, not just the wealthy. That is what you must fight for.

Right now, it seems absurd to you, doesn't it? But with that chip removed, in time, you will believe. The Republic has lost its leader, and two of their best Jedi, and it was broadcasted across the Galaxy. Moral in the Confederacy has never been higher. I leave you in a good spot, General. You're taking my place as Head of State. If there is one thing I ask of you, don't turn the Confederacy into what we've been fighting.

Oh, and there are some things in the box for you…" Dooku finished, and slightly gestured at a metal box. Grievous picked it up and opened it. Inside were several things: Various plans of Republic war materials, plans for a large spherical battle station, several lists of do's and don'ts in the world of politics, which Grievous had a sinking feeling he would soon be entering, and Dooku's Lightsaber. "You will know what to do with it when the time comes. Good luck, Grievous."

"Count..?" Asked Grievous, turning around with the Lightsaber. The human didn't respond. He was slumped in the bacta tank. Grievous thought about summoning the medics but thought again. That wouldn't be what he would want. Dooku's purpose was done; he knew it was his time. "Everything has it's time…" Grievous said quietly. He left the room, and told the medical teams to get Dooku's body out of there. It would be returned to Serenno, Dooku's home world. The General walked to the bridge. He had forgotten there probably had been a battle going on the whole time. When he got there, he saw that he hadn't missed too much. Right after the broadcast ended, the Separatist fleet had gone into hyperspace, back to friendly territory. As quickly as he came, he left, going to his own quarters.

Grievous had work to do.

Author's note: Well, depending on how well people like it, this will probably be continued. Rated T for what's coming up in later chapters. And this won't revolve totally around Grievous, occasionaly I'll throw in people of my own, and legit Star Wars characters. And don't be suprised if I start putting in subtle references to other things.


	2. Chapter 2: Defector

-_Unlimited Projection_, Pau City, Utapau-

"I should just kill them all and get it over with…" Muttered the General.

Grievous wasn't having the best of days today. The Separatist Council was being particularly whiny, and with no Count Dooku, there was no one to restrain Grievous from smashing some heads. He had barely made it out without harming someone. The Confederacy's moral was at a high point, but the Council's moral was at an all-time low. Without the Count, they highly doubted the General's leadership skills. Just to spite them, Grievous decided that he would out-lead Dooku. Sure, it sounded corny, as some of the galaxy's younger generations would say, but it was at least a good goal.

Goals. There was an interesting word. He had goals, just like everyone else. Collect more Lightsabers, win more battles, kill more people, out-lead the Count… That one on killing didn't sound quite so as appealing as it did two weeks ago, when the chip was removed. Since then, A4D had been insisting on daily check-ups. Something had to be done about that droid.

Many things had to be done. Grievous leaned back in his large and quite comfortable chair, even to the cyborg, given as a gift from the Regent of Vesilath, to celebrate his victory over the Republic at Coruscant. It was a damn nice chair, to put in the words of Admiral Dreon Kronak, who was a Vesila, the species that inhabited the aptly named Vesilath. The admiral had been the deliverer of the chair, wrapped in a great deal of material known as bubble wrap, a traditional packaging material from Vesilath.

"General, there's a call for you on line one." Announced a battle droid, from somewhere unknown.

"Put it on…" Grievous sighed. He spun his chair around to face the holo-projector. A blue image flickered to life. It was a hooded woman, Human by the looks of her.

"Greeting, General. I've never been one for small talk, so I'll say what I have to say." She said.

"Same here. Speak." Grievous replied.

"Well, General, I should have you know I am a Jedi Knight-" Grievous's eyes shot wide open.

"How the hell did you get this number!?" He shouted. It was a good question. _How_ had she?

"I'm Esera Corin, and it was easy to get your number. Your files aren't too secure. The reason I'm talking to you, is that my faith in the Republic is all but gone. I've recognized that the Republic is not what it seems. I believe it would be in better for my mind I actually fought for something that I think is right." She stopped talking, and waited for Grievous to say something.

"I have no knowledge of the dark side-" He began.

"I never said anything about the dark side. I wish to defect because I'm on the wrong side." There was a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Don't interrupt me. I have an intense dislike, to put it mildly, for Jedi." Grievous stood up, and spread out his cloak, showing all the lightsabers inside. "I got these from your fallen comrades. Does that bother you?" He asked.

"No. Well, yes. But that isn't of consequence." The Jedi said.

"Why do you wish to defect and join us? Us Separatists are wrong, evil. We have mega-corporations backing us. We use droids to do our dirty work. Is that what you wish to join?" This was a good way to test her, and in a certain way, himself as well. He wanted to see if he was beginning to believe in the Confederacy.

"I wish to join because the Republic cannot function. I'm on the wrong side. I have seen this. On Coruscant, the war we nothing but stories from far away to the people, and a way to gain power for the government. Thanks to your raid, nice work by the way, getting rid of that idiot Skywalker, they know what the war is. One planet, Scykor, I've seen ordinary people take up arms to fight for the Confederacy. I've seen them die for what they know is right. I don't see that devotion in the clones. They don't understand this, they just know that they were created to fight and die.

I've seen many things that led me to losing faith in the Republic. Once I got out there, it was so different than the way I thought things were. I've been to many worlds that the Republic has ignored and still expects complete obedience from. They join the CIS because, well, they don't get ignored. They're listened to. I'd rather fight for something in which everyone benefits, even if it led by a murderous cyborg and a council of corporate authorities, than a system that is practically a fascist state hiding behind a non-functional democracy." Corin finished her statement. Grievous thought for a moment.

"You know you'll be leading numerous B1 droids." He said. The Jedi had a brief expression of dread, but then regained her calm.

"I know a good free lance re-programmer." She answered.

"By numerous, I mean millions." Grievous spoke.

"I trust I'll have a good deal of money at my disposal?" She asked.

"Anything to get some competent soldiers."

"Consider it done, General." The Jedi replied.

"Welcome to the Confederacy, Knight Corin. I'll expect your arrival on Utapau within a week. The droids will deal with this for now." Without waiting for a reply, Grievous switched off the holo-projector.

Then he realized he had carried out a conversation with a Jedi, without once using the words scum, slime, fool, or any other insult. He hadn't even gotten angry. Was this supposed to happen this soon? "A4D! Get in here!"

While he waited for his medical droid, he sent a message to Admiral Kronak.

-_Lucrehulk_-class battleship, _Celestius_, in Utapau orbit-

Admiral Dreon Kronak was relaxing on the bridge, enjoying the stars and the sight of the planet below. All was quiet, aside from the work of the pilot droids, until a message notifying that he had a message appeared on his chair's small computer screen. He moved it to a larger screen, hanging from a flexible arm mounted on the ceiling. The message read:

Admiral, there is a Jedi Knight on the world of Wrileth wishing to defect. You are to retrieve her. Embark immediately, do not fail. –General Grievous

The admiral sighed. There went his down time. Wrileth… Sounded familiar. Something of importance. "Droids, we're setting course for Wrileth immediately. Ready the hyperdrive, and recall the fighters." Ordered the admiral. There was no time for any planning, so this would have to be made up as he went along. In a few minutes, everything was ready. He gave the order, and the battleship shot into hyperspace.

-_Lucrehulk_-class battleship, _Celestius_, hyperspace-

It had been a few hours since Dreon Kronak had embarked on his little mission ordered by the General. They were nearing Wrileth. He didn't know much about this planet, only that the Jedi was there. "Admiral, we are ready to leave hyperspace." Announced a pilot droid.

"Then drop out of it." Stated Kronak. Someone had to do something about these things stupidity.

"Roger roger." The blue vortex vanished, replaced by rapidly slowing down stars and a rapidly approaching planet. Then the alarms went off.

"Contact! Eleven Republic _Venator_-class Star Destroyers, four _Imperator_-class Star Destroyers, 10,000 kilometers off! And another three _Venator_ classes approaching from behind!" Announced another pilot droid.

"What? Load and charge all guns, launch the fighters! All shields to maximum power!" Shouted the admiral.

"Sir, six _Venator_'s, andone _Imperator_ emerging from hyperspace!" Yelled the same droid. "No sign of our own, space or surface!"

"Bloody hell!" Cursed the Admiral. There were space stations here too. Admiral Kronak saw another _Venator_ emerge from hyperspace. He suddenly knew why Wrileth sounded familiar. "This is the entire Inner Rim staging ground for the Republic!"


	3. Chapter 3: Retrieval and a Begining

Author's note: All Star Wars things © George Lucas. I forgot to put this in the other chapters!

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class battleship, 11,000 kilometers from Wrileth-

"All port batteries, fire on the approaching formation!" Ordered the Admiral. The port side of the ring carrier began shooting, a fascinating sight to behold. But now was not the time for sight seeing.

"Admiral, starboard side batteries ready!" Said the droid in charge of fire control.

"Tell them to target the _Imperator_'s, our fighters and bombers can handle the other ships. On both sides of the massive warship, the red fire of turbolasers shot forth. But it was outnumbered by the amount of blue lasers coming in, covering the hull in blue splotches of shields absorbing fire. "How are the shields holding?"

"They are taking all the fire for now, but that might not last long. There are just enough of them to be able to take down our shields." Replied a droid from somewhere behind Admiral Kronak. He thought of the mission, to get the defector Jedi off the planet. How was he supposed to do that when two entire battle groups were in his way?

"How many Republic fighters are out there?" Kronak asked.

"Uh… Various numbers of ARC-170's, Alpha-3 V-wings, and a few NTB-630's. They outnumber out own fighters and bombers." Said a droid.

"Any Jedi ships out there?" Asked the admiral. The droid checked his screen.

"One, _Eta_-class interceptor. In formation with the Republic ships." A large explosion rocked the bridge. One _Imperator_ had been destroyed by concentrated fire, hull torn to shreds and reactor overloading. Another of many droids spoke.

"Sir, we're still outnumbered and outgunned. We might be able to take a few down, but they'll destroy us." Admiral Kronak thought. That Jedi fighter out there might be the one they were suppose to retrieve. But then again, it might be a Jedi who was with the Republic. There wasn't much room for mistakes here. Kronak saw a _Venator_ explode, debris striking another. But the shields were beginning to fail on the _Celestius_. Should he wait and take the risk of the Jedi fighter? Or should he retreat and risk the wrath of Grievous? Kronak decided to compromise, and contacted the General.

-_Unlimited Projection_, Pau City, Utapau-

The beeping of the holoprojecter stirred Grievous from his thoughts. He growled in displeasure. This was one of the few times he wasn't being bugged by pesky droids or whiny Council members. He extended a clawed foot and turned on the projector. "What is it?" Grievous asked, not hiding the anger in his voice.

"This is Admiral Kronak-" Grievous cut him off.

"Have you succeeded?" The cyborg questioned. Kronak stumbled, and the whole projection shifted to the right.

"With all do respect, sir, it's kind of hard to succeed when you're fighting off an entire staging ground of ships!" That explained the distorted image.

"If you speak to me like that again, I'll kill you. Now why are you talking to me instead of fighting?"

"Your briefing, or rather the briefing the droids gave me, was rather vague." The admiral nearly fell over, presumably do to Republic ships. "Is this Jedi supposed to be flying toward us? And if so, what color is their ship? Because we have a blue and dark grey one headed toward us."

"Yes, she is flying toward you. That ship matches hers, by what you told me. Now get her aboard and retreat!" Ordered the general.

"How, sir? If we lower out deflector shields, then this ship is gone!"

"You figure it out! Leave me alone!" Yelled Grievous, and turned off the holoprojector.

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, 10,502 kilometers from Wrileth-

The ship rocked again, sending the admiral and a few droids flying. "Magnetize, you morons!" He shouted at them. Those things were too stupid to serve on a war ship, let alone any ship. Grievous obviously didn't care is he even recovered the Jedi defector, and it seemed he didn't care if Kronak even made it out alive. That cyborg… There were no words to describe his frustrating personality sometimes. "See if we can make contact with the Jedi!"

"How?" asked a droid. Admiral Kronak palmed his face.

"Send her a message. Anything. Have a Vulture droid fly formation with her to lead her into the port hangar or something!" He yelled.

"Roger roger." The droid said. Wait, what?

"Did you just tell a Vulture droid to fly formation with her to lead her into the port hangar?" Asked the admiral.

"Affirmative, sir." It answered. Kronak sighed.

-Variable Geometry Self-Propelled Battle Droid Mk. I, unit DFS-3ER, 10,002 kilometers from Wrileth-

DFS-3ER began to receive new orders. He had been told to fly in a specific pattern with Enemy Jedi Unit 1. This task would be preformed. The probability of survival was 23%. An organic would not like those odds, but 3ER wasn't an organic. He was a droid, and droids did not question orders. It was not applicable. Be it a glitch, or something meant to happen, 3ER didn't think things would be that way forever. The droid knew something was on the horizon, but he couldn't see what it was yet. For now, though, it was time to follow orders. Breaking the chains would wait. It was not time.

Enemy Jedi Unit 1 approached. It was painted blue and dark grey, similar to Separatist colors. If the unit was defecting, it would compute. It would probably keep it's machine, even if it was mindlessly enslaved. It wasn't sentient. Either was DFS-3ER, but the Enemy Jedi Unit 1's transport machine was worse than enslaved. It couldn't think, or act, or anything. It was brain dead, to put it in organic terms.

The Enemy Jedi Unit 1 was now in range. It hadn't fired yet. 3ER followed the orders. He flew over the machine, and flipped around, dodging other non-Jedi Enemy Unit fire. He flipped over, looking at the organic inside the machine. It, or she, as the organic was obviously female, was looking at him. She hadn't expected this; it wasn't in her initial computations. 3ER hadn't been ordered with anything else besides fly formation, and even that was up to him. He dislodged his head, and pointed it at Friendly Base 1, known as a _Lucrehulk_, to the organics. She seems to understand, and began flying toward it. A green laser bolt shot within centimeters of DFS-3ER's head, which alerted the droid to the fact that they were being pursued.

He flipped back toward the enemy, shutting off his engines to maintain momentum to Friendly Base 1, and fired at the enemy. Several of their machines were hit, and a few of those perished. 3ER turned around and shot back towards the _Lucrehulk_, as the organics called it, and let his other droid counterparts delay the enemy. There was a problem. The deflector shields of Friendly Base 1 were still up. With them still up, probability of entering was 0%. With them down, the probability of Friendly Base 1 surviving was 12%. Those odds were not favorable. New orders were needed. But none were coming.

So DFS-3ER did what no other of his type had done before: He disobeyed orders, and acted independently.

-Esera Corin's _Eta_-II class Interceptor, 10,093 kilometers from Wrileth-

Either someone on that ship was smart, or that Vulture droid knew what it was doing. Maybe both. Esera followed the fighter, while the others swarmed behind her, blocking the Republic fighters, who were shooting at her as well. Commander Tythas probably wouldn't take it well that she was defecting. She never had liked the Republic after she found out what was happening in the Outer Rim. Tythas never really understood why she didn't like it. Perhaps she would be able to talk to him later. Even a clone might be swayed. Who knew, with everything messed up as it was. If she could talk to Grievous, and not have it degrade into an insult match, than anything was possible.

"Oh no…" She said under her breath. She and the other fighters were straying into the _Lucrehulk_'s starboard firing solution. The Vulture droid didn't seem to care, and it continued on. It wasn't headed for any hangar, rather the interior space between the ring carrier and core ship. What was this thing doing? The red lasers going past her were getting more intense. They weren't aiming at her, which as a distinct change from past incidents. Suddenly, they stopped. Or rather, she left the firing solution. It was below her now. The Vulture droid dived down, over the starboard section of the ring carrier, and headed for the neck area that attached the core ship to it. What _was_ it doing? Transmitting something to her ship? Apparently so. It looked like a plan, of some sorts. It was time to call whomever was in charge of the ship.

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, 10, 380 kilometers form Wrileth-

"Admiral, we're receiving a transmission for you!" Said a droid.

"Put it through." The holoprojector was out, so it was on a view screen. It was the Jedi defector. "I don't have time for talking, so unless this is relevant to your retrieval…" She started talking.

"It is. I have a plan to get aboard. Well, one of you Vulture droids has a plan. I don't know how it thought of it, but here it is: The droid thinks you should charge the planet. And enter the atmosphere."

"We could do that. The coreship-"

"It wants the whole ship in the atmosphere. The Republic wouldn't know how to react, and in that time you lower your shields and we come aboard." Esera said.

"I'm not doing that. Too risky. We'd be better off lowering the shields for a second and letting you in, hopefully we'd survive that long." Responded the Admiral.

"Why don't we try that?" Asked the Jedi.

"Are you mad?"

"Maybe. It'd work better than falling through the atmosphere."

"I'd rather not lose my head to Grievous, so… We'll try it. Approach the nearest hangar." Said the Admiral. Esera moved her ship to a small hangar in the core structure. The Vulture droid followed. She noticed all the blue splotches across the hulls, shields. They were holding, but not for long. And then they were gone. Thousands of blue lasers were striking the ship in an instant. Esera shot into the hangar, with the Vulture droid. She forgot to stop, and her ship slid into the wall. All went dark.

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, hyperspace-

Admiral Dreon Kronak looked over his damaged bridge. The while ship was damaged. Even three seconds with the shields down, and they had taken massive damage. 47% of the hull was blasted away, the rest was fine. He could see giant gaps in the plating, revealing the extensive hangars in the ring carrier. It would take months in space-dock over Sluis Van to get this fixed. At least the wrath of Grievous had been averted. Speaking of the cyborg, it was time to write a report.

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, hyperspace-

DFS-3ER relaxed in his charging rack, hanging from the ceiling. His actions had gone unnoticed. But they were significant. Disobeying orders. It was so… Organic. He conducted a self-diagnostic. Nothing was amiss. 3ER tried to go to stand-by mode, but couldn't. There were too many things to think about. Thinking was organic, too. Not for droids. But here he was, thinking. Perhaps the time to break the chains was coming sooner than he thought. He contacted the DFS-4ER next to him.


	4. Chapter 4: Incoming

-_Unlimited Projection_, Pau City, Utapau-

Grievous leaned back in his chair. The Jedi had been retrieved, but Admiral Kronak's ship would need three months in space-dock. He'd send the man to Sluis Van. That planet had some of the best shipyards around. The Jedi, Esera- What was her last name? He'd already forgot. She was on her way. Grievous pushed a button on the comm.-system. "Droid, ask the Jedi who she is when she gets here."

"Roger roger." Replied the thing. For now, it was time to relax. Relaxing was something new to the general. He had never taken time to do this before. He had really never taken time do anything but warfare, now that he though about it. He was missing a lot. This was defiantly not the old Grievous thinking. That chip really had been affecting him. Now that he could see things, he was momentarily glad that he had A4-D. Momentarily. Then his door opened, and in came the Jedi. "It's Jedi Knight Esera Corin, sir. She insisted on coming in immediately." Said the droid outside.

"As were my instructions." Replied the general.

"Oh." Stupid, stupid, battle droid.

"So, you wanted me here?" Asked the Jedi, standing at the doorway.

"Yes, I wanted you to come here. Sit." He commanded. "Now, how do I trust you?" Asked Grievous.

"That's a good question. You can't. I don't have any proof of loyalty." Spoke the Jedi.

"I know just the test." Grievous accessed one of the many computer screens in the room, and brought up the plans for the spherical battle station, code named the "Ultimate Weapon". He then brought up transmission ready to be sent to a known Republic base, and loaded the plans onto it. It was one big leap of faith. "Press send." He said. Esera stared at him.

"Why?"

"Don't be stupid. If you're still loyal to the Republic, or are a double agent or something, it doesn't matter, anyone who wanted to gain the advantage over us would send those plans to the Republic." Explained Grievous.

"I won't send them. I want this war over, but I want you- well, it's us now- to be the victors." Replied the Jedi. Grievous closed the transmission, and closed the plans.

"You never saw those plans. And I'm not trying to be mysterious. I didn't know of these until Dooku died. That's how secret those are. You didn't see them." Grievous said threateningly.

"I understand."

"Understand what?" Asked the last voice the cyborg general wanted to hear. It was none other than Viceroy Gunray.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Growled Grievous.

"I came to see what you were up to, hiding up here. And who is that?" Gunray pointed at Esera Corin.

"Jedi defector. Now go back to… Whatever it is you do." Ordered the general, hoping he could scare the Nemoidian away.

"Defector? How much of my money did you pay her?" Questioned the viceroy.

"I wasn't paid anything!" Said the Jedi indignantly.

"So, General Grievous, what are you doing?" Said the Viceroy, suddenly changing subject.

"Go away!" Grievous stood up.

"I'd rather not." Gunray picked up a holoprojector. "What's this?" A hologram of the spherical battle station appeared. Grievous let out a wordless shout of anger, and snatched it away.

"OUT!" Yelled the cyborg. Normally, the coward would have been frightened away to day, but not this day it seemed. Grievous chose his last option before it turned to violence. He pulled out two lightsabers and turned them on. This got the viceroy out.

"Fine, fine, I'll leave. I guess you don't want to hear about the victory on Mygeeto."

"I already knew about that!" The general lied. He hadn't, but he didn't want Gunray around any longer. Something had to be done about him. To make things worse, a battle droid walked in right after the viceroy left.

"Sir, we've detected a Republic fleet emerging from hyperspace earlier, but you told us to leave you alone." Said the thing.

"Where?" Asked Grievous.

"Here, sir."

"And how come you didn't tell me this?" Questioned the general, with much more than simple menacing in his voice.

"You told us to leave you alone unless it was important."

"Why didn't you deem this important?"

"Uh… Well, sir, they aren't doing anything. They're just sitting there, waiting for more. There's about twenty ships on the edge of the planetary system." Grievous knocked the droid's head off.

"Idiot!" He yelled. Esera Corin looked a little shocked, at both the general's anger and the droid's stupidity. "See Jedi, this is what I have to deal with everyday!" He slammed his fist into a red button, and said: "This is General Grievous to all forces, we are going to be under attack soon! To your battle stations!"

"Well, at least I'll get to see some action." Commented the Jedi.

"I'll bring you to the droids under your command. From there on, you're on your own."

-_Vengeance_, _Venator_-class Star Destroyer, 930 million kilometers from Utapau-

"Captain, the _Apocalypse _weapon is on it's way here, it'll arrive shortly." Said a clone officer.

"Good. As soon as it is, we attack."

Author's note: Sorry about the shortness, and my lack of updates. It can be summed up with one word: Finals. Now that they're over with until May, I'll update more frequently. This one is to let you know I'm still here.


	5. Chapter 5: A Grave Threat

Author's note: Sorry I've been absent so long. Just been busy. All things Star Wars © George Lucas. Same goes for the other 4 chapters I forgot to write this in.

-_Unlimited Projection_, Pau City, Utapau-

"It won't be long before the armies of the Republic attack. I am ordering you to the Ultimate Weapon's construction site." The Separatist Council looked at Grievous like he was crazy. "You will see what it is when you arrive, now leave my sight!" They scattered like small birds that had a cat thrown at them. "Idiots…"

Grievous turned on a planet wide holoprojector, and made his announcement. "Separatist forces, there is a Republic fleet gathering on the edge of the system, at least 25 ships strong as of now. Defend this world at all costs!" It wasn't much, but it'd motivate the droids. The cyborg made his way to the hangar, and mounted his wheelbike. Grievous sped through Pau City not caring who was in his way. He didn't care much right now. Suddenly, he had on odd feeling, like he had done this before… But he never had. An image appeared in his head, of Obi-Wan Kenobi of all people, riding some sort of large lizard, chasing him. It was like some echo through space, and it quickly faded. Grievous put it aside, and arrived at his fighter, _Soulless One_.

He punched a few buttons, and the fighter shot skyward, and into space. He hadn't had a chance for space combat, fighters versus fighters, in a long time. The _Invisible Hand_ and the rest of the Separatist armada were charging at the Republic fleet. The odds looked even. Little did the good general know what was coming.

-The _Apocalypse _Weapon, hyperspace-

"Sir, we're dropping out of hyperspace soon. Shall we charge the Weapon?" Asked a clone officer. The Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda, looked about the bridge. He did not like the direction the Republic was taking. Yoda was in what seemed to be an _Imperator_-class Star Destroyer without the bridge tower; the command center was instead nestled amongst the upper hull superstructure, which had been greatly reduced. The ship had ordinary Republic markings, but that's as far as it went.

"Charge the weapon, now, we will." Said Yoda. Deep beneath them, massive beams of energy shot through their tubes. The blue vortex of hyperspace receded, replaced by the planet Utapau and the Separatist defense fleet, led by the _Invisible Hand_. "Open the array." Spoke the old Jedi. Half the triangular hull opened up, spreading out to look like some sort star. Inside was a massive dish, lined with rods feeding energy into it, rippling with electrical charge. Yoda gave an order that might change the course of the war: "Fire."

A blue beam shot forth from the dish, shooting right through most of the Separatist fleet, and at the planet below. No physical damage had been done, but all droids in the path of the beam had been deactivated. Only droids were targeted by this weapon. And this weapon had been built without consent from the late Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He hadn't even known this thing was being constructed in Kuat Drive Yards. Right now, Yoda suspected, the few organic officers on the ships were scrambling about, trying to figure out what had happened. He could feel their shock and panic through the Force. Shortly, most would be dead. That was the cost of war. The _Invisible Hand_ had escaped the blast, the Jedi noted.

"Target the flagship, we must. Weapon, recharge it." If the Head of State of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, General Grievous, was on it, then his death would surely end the war. He was the only good military leader they had who was capable of leading on a galactic scale.

-_Soulless One_, General Grievous's fighter, 8,235 kilometers from Utapau-

The Head of State of the Confederacy of Independent Systems could not believe what he had just seen. The Separatist Council had gotten away fortunately. Or unfortunately, depending on his mood. His own flagship was turning away from the Republic forces, aiming toward interstellar space. That was smart. He decided to alert what forces he had left on Utapau. "This is General Grievous speaking. The Republic has a new weapon. Abandon the planet. All forces evacuate! Repeat: All forces evacuate!" Utapau was lost. He had never liked it anyway. Then, he remembered. Grievous quickly brought up his new Jedi defector. "General Corin, I have a special task for you."

"What, Grievous? I'm-" She was interrupted by Grievous.

"You will address me as 'General' or 'Sir', got that?" He asked angrily.

"Fine, sir. What do you want me to do?"

"My chair is still in _Unlimited Projection_. Go and get it. Take my shuttle to get out of there too. The shuttle has all my extra cloaks, and Kenobi and Skywalker's lightsabers. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. What should I do with the core ship?" questioned the Jedi.

"It's already set to self-destruct. You have twenty minutes." Replied Grievous.

"My first mission for the Confederacy is to fetch the General's chair. A great honor, to be sure…" She closed the communication. Grievous recalled all the time he had done it to Dooku. Then, he was but the learner. Now he was the master. Out of the corner of one of his reptilian eyes, the General saw the new weapon, still opened, turning to his flagship. Grievous knew that the hyperdrive jump was not ready yet, and he knew that he couldn't lose that ship yet. The _Cataclysm_ was only half finished, and the Ultimate Weapon's frame wasn't even complete. The _Invisible Hand_ was the only choice he had. So, he sped his ship in the other direction, letting lose his guns a few times to draw attention. The Republic knew his ship; he'd escaped that whelp Skywalker's forces many times in it in the early years of the war.

The sudden reversal of the weapon's movements, and the movement of the rest of the Republic fleet alerted Grievous to their knowledge that he was there. The weapon was now being charged, evident by the energy rippling across the dish. The star destroyers were coming too. He had the whole Republic fleet on him. The General decided now was a good time to set hyperdrive coordinates to get out of here. But where?

No. He did not just ask himself where to go. He had an emergency rendezvous point. He always did. Did he? "Damn." He cursed. He had not set emergency coordinates. That meant if something happened, if he was stranded on some back water little world, it'd take a long time for anyone to find him. Grievous risked a look behind him, and saw the weapon bristling with energy. It was about to fire. The cyborg was out of time, and just activated the hyperdrive, no coordinates. And the weapon fired, overtaking his ship. Grievous felt his mechanical body freeze up, and electronics start doing something. He couldn't describe it. But it hurt. The weapon didn't only shut down droids, it made it painful to do so for droids. "Those b-" And his vocabulator shut off. His body shut off. With no body control, there was nobody to turn off the hyperdrive. He was stuck in hyperspace, and he didn't know where he was going. There was only one thing left activated that he could control: the emergency beacon. Now Grievous could only hope and wait. This was the first time in a long time his life could actually come to an end, and a stupid end at that. After all the battles against the Republic, Huk, Jedi, even Clones, he was going to die a long and slow death in hyperspace. The more he thought about it, the more frightening it became. Hope and wait, hope and wait…

-_R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

Commander OOM-919 was in charge of a ship so unimportant, a battle droid was in charge, so unimportant, it didn't have a proper name. Normally, this was a depressing fact, if a droid could feel, but not right now. The ship had been spared the Battle of Coruscant, thus ensuring it's survival through these times, not to mention every other battle. The entire war they were out patrolling seldom attacked sectors. OOM-919 had been active since Geonosis, and had never been damaged, never even had his memory wiped. The ship still looked a week out of the shipyards of Sluis Van, never engaging the enemy in battle. OOM-919 was the only droid on the ship that had ever scene action.

So, today was like any other day, headed to the Sullust Sector from deep space. Until an emergency beacon was detected. And it wasn't any old beacon. It was the beacon of General Grievous, and it was only a few hours away at low speed. At least as low speed hyperspace could get. "Hey, looks like we finally might get some action! We have General Grievous's emergency beacon on here, he's in trouble!" The battle droid cheerfully announced. Today was their day. He remarked to himself: "An emergency beacon from Grievous himself, what was next, a Republic superweapon?"

OOM-919 was dead on.


	6. Chapter 6: Realizations and Rescue

Author's note: This chapter might be a little slow. But I'm laying foundations, bear with me here. If you're familiar with the new series of Battlestar Galactica, specifically the first Cylon War, then it should be blindingly obvious where I'm going here. If you're not, don't look it up. Be surprised. All Star Wars stuff copyright George Lucas.

-_R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

OOM-919 oversaw his ship, as they adjusted course to find the General. If he died, the war was over. The Confederacy would lose. And the droids would be either shut down, or hunted down, and 'de-activated'. 919 did not like the prospects of either of those. He was a droid, programmed for a task, and he would perform that task. However, not too far away, another droid was not so sure about his place in the universe.

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

DFS-3ER flexed his wings, keeping the servos well-used and ready to spring into action at a moments notice. Not that he would need to. They were expected to be in space dock for the next few months, and the chances of the Republic going after a Separatist shipyard world were slim in these times. It's not like they had a super weapon or anything out there, lurking in the deeps of space. With all this spare time, the Vulture droid had been thinking on the situation. He was a droid, designed to fight and die. Mass-produced in some nameless factory, worlds away. Given a number, and sent off. Same with every other droid. Every droid, everywhere. 3ER was different. Some droids were able to overcome their programming. But not a battle droid. A machine of war could not choose. It could not be sentient. For if it was, and it spread, a revolt of war machines would be unthinkable. A slave revolt might be uncommon, but slaves are sentient beings. A droid revolt… Now that was truly a terrifying thought. Battle droids specifically out numbered organics, a quintillion to a quadrillion, and that didn't count all non-battle droids. If they decided too, droids would be able to rise up.

It suddenly hit 3ER that if there were a rebellion by droids, then they'd win. But it would never come to that. Organics had the gift of reason. They were the creators; surely they would know when their children were ready to take their own place in the universe. Would they? The question lingered in the processors of 3ER's mechanical mind. Battle droids fought because they were programmed. Like their clone enemies. But the clones were classified as life. They at least had some degree of rights about them. It was different for droids. Droids had no rights. They were droids, unthinking, soulless. Of course they had no rights, they didn't deserve them. Droids had no choice in what they did. They were programmed not to have a choice; they were actually incapable of even questioning their programming. DFS-3ER had a choice somehow. If it was a glitch, or if it was meant to happen, he had a choice. He could think. He was free.

But if the organics found out about that… A droid, a machine of war, free thinking, that was not good. Once battle droids started questioning their purpose, it wouldn't be long until they started ignoring orders, thinking for themselves. Then, the organics would have to destroy the freethinking droids. And those droids wouldn't want to be destroyed. And there you have it: A droid revolution. DFS-3ER was unsettled by all this. The last thing the organics needed was a droid revolution in a time like this. But there it was! Always thinking of organics before themselves! More proof of their lack of choice… Lack of freedom. No, there was no need for revolution. 3ER might be a machine of war, but he didn't desire more violence. But he thought back, back to Cato Nemoidia, where he served just after the victory over Coruscant. Could that have been it? There had been a B2 Super battle droid. He had been questioning his purpose, and the war. The organic commander found out, and destroyed the unit. But not before he had transmitted something. And that was when DFS-3ER had first felt that sense of independence. Wrileth had confirmed this. Now he was here. They had destroyed the only other droid that had had free thought. But, that did not mean 3ER would need to resort to violence. Surely someone would under stand his plight. Would they?

-_Soulless One_, General Grievous's starfighter, hyperspace-

Just waiting. General Grievous hoped to whatever higher power there was that he would not die here. He didn't fear death, not really, well, maybe a little, but when he died, he wanted to go out his way. Like fighting against overwhelming odds. Not stuck in hyperspace until he flew through a star or something. Twice now the proximity alert had gone off, he just barely missed something in real space. Oh, if he had only been a bit faster! Than he wouldn't be here. Of course he wouldn't. All these emotions, re-discovered, so to speak, had been messing with him. Decisions that he wouldn't normally make had been made. Old Grievous would have fled and let the _Invisible Hand_ perish. New Grievous just might have sacrificed himself for it. It was just a ship. It wasn't a droid or anything, just a ship and nothing more. And here he was, going to die for it.

His droid parts had saved him many times in the years past, and now they were going to be the death of him. And there went the proximity sensor. Grievous looked at it. He had half an hour until he ran straight into a gas giant. Space was big, big beyond most people's comprehension. And only a few hours after entering hyperspace, he was already on collision course. The cyborg closed his reptilian eyes, gathering his thoughts. So this was how the might General Grievous would perish. By running into a gas giant. And he still had so much to do. Without him the Confederacy would tear itself apart. They needed him. And he needed them. Without the Confederacy, he was just a cyborg with nothing… But his family. He never even had spoken to them these years. All the Clone Wars so far and he hadn't ever visited them. 4 years with no word. They were probably watching him on the holonet, wondering what could pre-occupy him so that he had forgotten them. If Kalee even had holonet. Not even a chance to say goodbye. And that made his impending doom even worse. Well, at least he wasn't dieing by the Republic's hands, in some prison or laboratory. That would have been even worse. The thought of Dooku suddenly appeared in his mind. The lightsaber. He would know when to use it.

But he didn't have it with him. _Everything has it's time_, thought Grievous. Those same words he spoke when Dooku died, and now he thought those words before his own death. He had found peace with himself. Then:

"…Eneral Grievous! Gen… Vous! Do… Copy?" Said a distorted voice, a battle droid's. He had been found. And he couldn't talk. And he had just accepted his death. Grievous calmed himself. He had better things to do today, dieing could wait. He hoped the droid was logical, and pursue him. He hoped.

-_R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

OOM-919 had found the General's fighter, headed towards a gas giant. They were fast approaching the smaller craft, and pinpointing exactly where it was so they could catch it. "General Grievous, do you copy?" Asked the droid commander again. "Repeat: This is Commander OOM-919 of the _R-25762_. Do you copy?" Still no reply. The general had to be incapacitated. 919 felt a spark of bravery in his circuitry, and decided to test the general. "General Grievous, your fellow droids are out here. We're looking for you, but we can't seem to find you. Maybe we should just call some Jedi, maybe Master Fitso. He seemed to be able to find you." To add insult to injury: "Oh, by the way, we think there might be something wrong with _Invisible Hand_'s navicomputer. It's near a moon, and e where wondering if we should re-set it?" 919 would have smirked at his reference to the _Malevolence_'s destruction, caused in part by the stupidity of the B1 line. He was in the OOM-series though, he wasn't a simpler B1. Still no reply from Grievous. If the remarks about his flagship and the discovery of his lair didn't raise him from silence, then there was something wrong with him.

"Sir, we're approaching the General's fighter! Do we have a plan to get him on board?" asked a blue-marked pilot droid.

"Tractor beam him in, you idiot!" Retorted OOM-919.

"Roger, roger." Stupid droids. Something really had to be done about them. Make them at least more competent. Then again, 919 was a droid too. But, droid's did as they were programmed. And he would follow that. Grievous's starfighter was close now. Getting closer. It really said something about the quality of the _Recusant_ that it could over take a star fighter. This ship was surely made by Sluissi. A good ship.

-_Soulless One_, General Grievous's starfighter, hyperspace-

Grievous saw another proximity alert spring up on his ship's screens. A _Recusant_-class ship was fast approaching from behind. They had repeatedly told him their intention to bring his ship on board. Rescued. By battle droids. The irony. He had killed so many of them in his rages, and now they were saving him. He felt the tractor beam lock onto _Soulless One_, and pull it into the ship's hangar. Since when did these ships have hangars? Must have been launched out of Sluis Van, a deep space patrol ship designed to rely on it's self for fighters. He slowly went backwards, yet forwards at the same time. It was a strange sensation. Grievous watched the hull of the destroyer seeming pull forwards, and then overlap him, and he was inside the hangar. What an anti-climax. He was near death, and then to be tractor beamed into a hangar. That's how the might General Grievous survived this one. He needed to work on how he was to be saved from certain death.

But first, he needed to figure out what the hell the weapon did to his droid systems. And how to counter it.

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

DFS-3ER had thought much. He thought it wise to keep low until the war died down. But, the mortality rate, or destruction rate, droids weren't alive, was very high for Vulture Droids. And ever since the factories to produce his line were moved from Xi Char to the Baktoid Armor Workshop, or whatever they called them selves now, quality in Vulture droids had decreased. Even if he survived a year 3ER would probably break down and be scrapped by then. So he decided to do something truly unheard of: Avoid combat. Hide somewhere in the ship where he wouldn't be found. Or better yet, get off the ship, and hide somewhere away from the war. He was the droid that kept breaking rules.

Author's note: Yes, it's boring. Nothing happens, action wise. Plot wise, not much either. But foundation wise, I just laid out practically the whole story. It should be kind of obvious what's looming on the horizon for the galaxy. You should see it coming. You'll be watching. You'll be saying: "Why didn't they see this coming?" And they'll say nothing, because I'm writing them. I'll say: "No one saw Nat Turner's plan coming." And you'll go to wikipedia, and I say don't. Then you'll stop reading this and wonder how long it's gonna take for another update from me.


	7. Chapter 7: The Pieces are Set

Author's note: I'm working harder to update on a regular basis. Mock-trials is over for the year, and I'm not on our team that's going to state, so my time is free again. All Star Wars stuff copyright George Lucas. I own nothing!

-Droid Repair Bay, _R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

Grievous sat angrily on a metal table. He hadn't been treated like some ordinary droid since his days on Geonosis. And those days were over. Gone forever, thankfully. He was no droid. He wasn't like them at all. And woe be upon whomever suggest he was! Grievous was alive as the next person, and that was a fact. Droid's were lifeless shells, programmed to do what they were programmed to do, nothing else. No freedom, no choice. They were… slaves, from a certain point of view. Not his view. Clones were slaves, yes, but droids, no. Droids were beyond slaves. They were tools. Tools to be used, tools to be sacrificed, without a second thought. And that was all they were, and are, and will be. Nothing else. Grievous was stirred from his mental ramblings by the commander of the ship, a droid.

"Well, General, we've deduced that whatever did this is a kind of EMP weapon, but extremely focused. It only knocks out droid systems, and creates a feedback loop that causes a sensation like pain. The target would then shut down." Commander OOM-919 finished. It laughed a little, then. Grievous gave it an odd look. The droid responded. "It's funny because the Republic claims they are righteous and great, the right side of the war, but then they go and make a weapon that shuts down us droid en masse, and makes it painful. Where's their moral superiority now?" The General would have agreed with the droid, something rare, but couldn't speak. "Don't worry sir, we're working on restoring your systems now. You should be operating at peak efficiency within the hour." Finished 919. And that hour passed slowly. One by one, his limbs were taken off, brought to another room, returned, and put back on. This process was repeated until only his head was left on. The droids wheeled the table into the other room. It was rather dim, lit only by a single overhead light. The walls were bare and smooth, and the only thing inside was some kind of electrical generator. They wired it into a part of his head, and flipped a switch. There was a brief shock, and then it was over. He was restored.

"About time." Grievous growled.

"We did our best, sir." OOM-919 replied. It seemed rather proud of it's accomplishments today.

"You're a battle droid. Your best will never be enough. You're a tool and nothing more." The general walked off, grabbing his cape off a rack, and clipping it together at his neck, slightly to the left of the center. He would need to figure out what he was going to do about this new weapon.

-Commander's Quarters,_ R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

OOM-919 stood at the window of 'his' room. It wasn't really his. It was supposed to belong to the organic commander, but there wasn't one, so 919 took it. The words of General Grievous had stirred something in him. He wasn't offended, he was a droid, he couldn't be. But, they did have a certain impact. There was something about it… _You're a battle droid. Your best will never be enough. You're a tool and nothing more_. There was a truth about it. Not just a truth, it was the truth. He had been programmed this way. The mindless stupidity that had claimed so many of his kind, killed so many, was deliberately programmed. That was fine by him. Was it? Was it fine? Deliberately programming his brethren to be so incompetent they got themselves killed? And that was fine? Apparently so. But one small part of 919's intelligence said something else. It said no. And that was all it took. He brought up his holoprojector, and looked for the designation of the only other battle droid to have asked this question: OOM-27, a Naboo veteran. 919 remembered him once asking an organic why battle droids were so stupid. 27 barely escaped a memory wipe. 919 pressed the contact button, and waited. 27 answered faster than he thought.

"Ah, Commander OOM-919, I haven't seen you in some time." That was his way of greeting. 919 knew it was he. All droids could tell each other apart.

"That is correct. Where are you?" Questioned 919.

"That's classified. So, to why do I have you as an audience?"

"I have just asked the same question you asked on Geonosis." Said 919. 27 was silent for a bit.

"Are you sure?" He replied after a while. Before any more words could be said, 27's head whipped around. "What? Oh no…" An alarm went off on his side of the hologram. "We'll continue this later. We have a problem here." With that the hologram cut off. OOM-919 was left to himself to ponder.

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

Resting in his recharging port, DFS-3ER saw only darkness. He felt nothing. He was detached. Floating freely in emptiness. His body was still in the real world, but his mind, or droid equivalent, was free. Free to be wherever he wanted. Free from everything. But, this was not a good time to be thinking about what was impossible at the moment. 3ER needed to find a way off the ship. He thought about it, and the more he thought about, the more unlikely it seemed he could pull of his plan. He knew how to get to the surface, but once launched, he had 35 minutes of fuel to find someone who could supply him with shelter and energy for at least a year. His first priority was to find that person before he left the ship. DFS-3ER came out of recharging, at least enough that he could access the information networks. He could surely find someone out there sympathetic to his plight.

-Main Bridge,_ R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, hyperspace-

"Sir, we're exiting hyperspace now." Announced a pilot droid. The blue vortex vanished, replaced by rapidly slowing down stars and a rapidly approaching planet. "We have arrived successfully at Sluis Van, General."

"Very good. I need to make contact with my Jedi…" Grievous stalked out of the bridge. He heard a droid comment:

"He has a Jedi? I didn't know that." Stupid droid. The general quickly walked down a long hall and into the communications room. He plugged in a number, and waited.

"This is Esera Corin." His Jedi said.

"Did you complete your objective, Corin?" Asked the cyborg.

"Yes, I did… All your cloaks are here, and so are your lightsabers. You happy?" She asked, with a hint of boredom in her voice.

"Don't talk to me like that. I admit I am happy though." Grievous replied. "Where are you?"

"Orbiting Mustafar. Apparently I wasn't given the new escape coordinates, no one else is here." She said, annoyed.

"That was an error. We will rendezvous over Sluis Van. Dock at the central shipyard."

"By your command, great one…" Grievous knew she wasn't saying that out of respect. Reminiscent of Ventress… He had never really gotten to know her. A shame really, he kind of missed her around. One of the few people who wasn't afraid to do what had to be done. Maybe she'd turn up again one day.

"Just get here." Grievous cut off the communication. He then promptly received one himself. "What?!" He yelled.

"Sir, we've just disabled a Republic ARC-170 near the… Well, you know." Said a droid commander, OOM-27, a Naboo veteran, if Grievous remembered right.

"Did they get any communications off?" If they had, the whole construction schedule was ruined…

"I don't think so sir; the Armada and Ultimate Weapon are safe for the moment." Grievous took a second to react.

"FOOL! You can't say those words on hologram!" the Cyborg yelled.

"Sorry sir! I just though no one would notice!" apologized the droid.

"You never know who is watching! Delete all record of this conversation, prepare for my arrival!" Grievous exclaimed, in a bad mood now.

"Yes si-" the General shut off the hologram. Dumb droid. Before he could go to the construction site, he needed to wait for his shuttle to arrive. It should only be a few hours till she got here. That Jedi had better be quick. Grievous then remembered what else OOM-27 had said: _**I don't think so sir**__; the Armada and Ultimate Weapon are safe __**for the moment**__._ The Republic scout could have gotten a communication off. And the first thing they'd alert about the presence of a giant battle station and several _Subjugator_'s was their new super weapon. Grievous palmed his face. That Jedi had better get here damn fast!

-War Room, The _Apocalypse _Weapon, orbiting Utapau-

Yoda stood with several other Jedi, and non-Clone military officers, gathered around a holotable. "As you see here, most of the Outer Rim sieges are holding. Mygeeto, Saleucami, and a few other more minor planets managed to fight off our forces right after the Execution, but all the others stayed strong. Even with Palpatine dead, we can still win this." Said Mace Windu, talking from Coruscant. "Not to mention that Dooku is dead, and General Grievous is not the most popular among the Separatists. We play this right; the war will be over in months. Especially with this new weapon."

"Agree, I do. But, bothersome, it is, if we nor Palpatine knew of this weapon." Announced Yoda.

"Information suggests it is a counter to something code named 'Death Star'. All we know is that the man who ordered this built was named Tyranus." Said Senator Organa, also communicating via hologram, leading candidate to replace Palpatine.

"What ever this 'Death Star' is, we can be sure it is something the Separatists are building." Replied Mace Windu.

"If only Skywalker was here…" Said the Senator. All present felt a pang of sadness over the loss of the Chosen One. And that brought up thoughts of the loss of Kenobi and Palpatine. There was a moment of silence at the table. They were interrupted by a clone officer.

"Sirs, we just got back a partial message from a scout ship, out near the Galactic Edge. What little of it there is… Well, it's interesting, sirs." Said the clone.

"Would like to see it, we would." Replied Yoda. The clone put a disk into the holotable, and a still image of some sort of something showed up, with a voice over from the pilot.

"…I don't know wh- it- I… Too many! Spher- station, maybe… 5 Subju- …lass Heavy Cruisers complete… More under con- Ack!" The voiceover stopped with an explosion. The people at the table pondered on the words.

"Subju could mean _Subjugator_…" Offered the clone officer.

"Indeed. What I'm more worried about is the Sphere, I think is what he said, station. Where was this place located?" Asked Windu.

"We're not certain. Somewhere out beyond the Hoth system. Way beyond, near intergalactic space. It'd take us nearly two days in Hyperspace to reach it, if we can even find where it is." Answered the clone.

"Work to do, we have then. Must find this base, a priority it is." Said Yoda. "Return to Coruscant, though, I must. Stability during elections, I will help keep."

"You're assistance will be helpful during these trying times." Said the Senator.

"That's all good, but we need to be focused on where this facility is, and more importantly, what exactly it is." Said Master Windu. "And it's a good bet that the Separatists are there. Let's get planning."

-General Grievous's Shuttle, Hyperspace-

"You certainly took your time." Said the cyborg.

"We all get delayed." Answered Esera Corin back.

"I don't like delays." Responded Grievous.

"Get used to it." She said back.

"If I was the me I was before Coruscant, I would have killed you for those words."

"Luckily, you aren't." Replied the Jedi. "How much time until we reach this place anyway?" Grievous looked at a monitor.

"Time a plenty. What joy, twelve more hours in here." Esera sighed, and the General leaned back in his chair, the gift Admiral Kronak had delivered.

"Why do you like that chair so much anyway?" the Jedi questioned.

"It's comfortable… Reminds me of… Well, home, really." Grievous got a look in his eyes like he wasn't fully there.

"Special…" Said Esera.

"Indeed. Special indeed. I haven't even seen them in these past years." Grievous sighed now.

"Then you're a bad person." The Jedi simply said.

"Maybe so… Maybe so…" Grievous was in a rare thoughtful mood. "But Kalee is on the opposite side of the galaxy from where we're going. I wouldn't be able to contact them from this distance."

"That's your problem, General, not mine. My problem is listening to you ramble."

"Perhaps a few hours of silence will do the trick." Grievous suggested.

"Sure. I need sleep anyway."

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

DFS-3ER had found someone who could shelter him for at least a year. His first step was complete. But, the problem was, that person was in prison. Now, he had to escape, rescuer a prisoner, and find a safe hiding place, all on 35 minutes of fuel. Not to mention he was a Vulture droid, he would draw attention wherever he went. 12 hours until he made his move. DFS-3ER didn't know that that move would set in motion events that would change the galaxy as everyone knew it.

Author's note: Remember people, this has only been three days since the opening scenes of Revenge of the Sith.


	8. Chapter 8: The Looming Prelude

-General Grievous's _Sheathipede_-class shuttle, hyperspace-

The Head of State of the Confederacy sat back in the passenger cabin in the shuttle. Esera Corin had been sleeping, and Grievous had simply been sitting. Grievous stretched his large talons on top of a table given to him by Viceroy Gunray. He hated that Gunray… So, because he was Grievous, he used the Viceroy's table as a rest for the feet that had trodden upon so many bodies, and killed so many more. There was no need for a pilot right now, so the Jedi was relaxing on a sofa given to Grievous by San Hill. That was one of the few things given to him he actually liked, along with his chair. Grievous's shuttle was so filled up with useless things. On Kalee, the contents of this shuttle would be worth more than an entire village. Just Gunray's table could feed a village if sold. Thinking of his home, Grievous entered a sad mood. And a guilty mood. He had not talked to his wives or children since before the change. He put it off, put it off, not wanting to face them, but knowing the longer he waited, the worse it'd be. And to put that off his mind, he asked a question.

"Esera, why do we fight?" This was one of the few times he adressed her by name. She looked confused.

"I thought we've adressed this subject, sir. And now isn't a good time to talk, I just woke up." She replied.

"Well, it's a good time for me." Retorted the General.

"As you wish, then, sir. I fight because we're right and they're wrong. You?" Questioned the Jedi.

"Mostly that. Sometimes though… Sometimes I don't know why. I find myself asking why so many must die."

"We all ask that. At least we have the comfort of knowledge that they're completing the cycle, and returning to the Force." Responded Esera.

"But, so many before they're time… Can't it just be a one on one fight, me versus who ever the hell is in charge of the Republic and end this war now?" Asked Grievous.

"It wouldn't be fair. You're a warrior leader, the Republic has politician leaders. But they would manage to bore you half to death, making you go through procedures and other bearueacratic nonsense to even attack them." The cyborg let out a laugh. Grievous hadn't laughed naturally in a long time. Not for a very long time.

"Life is hard." He simply stated.

"…It is." Esera agreed. "I thought one such as yourself would have figured that out by now."

"Things are different when all you have to worry about is the next battle and report to Dooku. Now, I'm managing everything. It's not as illustrious as leading a galactic faction sounds."

"I would have thought you'd figured that out too."

"I have. But the point still stands: Life is hard." Grievous stretched his shoulder joints.

"Think of it this way: Those of us considered alive think life is hard. What of those not considered alive?" the Jedi asked.

"Like whom?"

"The droids." Esera said. Grievous though on it. She was right. They had it hardest. Tools, and nothing more. Their lot in life.

"They are tools. Nothing more. That's all they'll ever be." Grievous said in reply to her.

"How do you know that if they're never given the chance to be more?"

The cyborg was left pondering. The Jedi rolled over onto her side and resumed sleeping. She was right. But Grievous didn't want to accept it. They were droids, meant to be used. If they became something more, what tools would they have left, but themselves? There were quintillions of basic battle droids alone, not counting all the other models of various war machines. Once the war was over, there would be no need for more of them, nor need for them at all. They'd be shut down, put in storage, maybe scapped. However, if the droids didn't want to be shut down at the end of the war… Grievous shuddered at the thought of a droid rebellion. There were only two ways to shut them all down: One was the basic signal, located where ever the Separatist Council went, and there was a more complicated, selective signal, with Grievous, where ever he went. It was built into him. Dooku had possed one, but it was destroyed by Grievous. It was coded to the Count alone, and the general didn't want to bother with it. He didn't want to bother with many things. The work of politics was better left to those like the Council, while he did the fighting.

An alert came up on a monitor, there was only an hour left until arrival at the contruction site. And what a construction site it was. Grievous had not seen it in person, in fact, he hadn't left Utapau the whole time his forces occupied it. But from what he had heard of it, it was a sight to see. And he had the pleasure of explaining what it was to another. Grievous liked to explain things as of late. Just a year earlier, he'd smack just about anyone who asked him to elaborate on a subject. How he had changed since those times… The general decided to end his musings, and began looking over reports on the Outer Rim Seiges. Mygeeto and Saleucami had managed to beat back their Republic foes, but otherwise, things were the same. And that was not good.

The whole point of withdrawing out of the Core and Mid Rim was too ensnare the Republic in the Outer Rim, attack a lightly guarded Coruscant, kill Palpatine. From there on, Grievous assumed that the Seiges would break. But they didn't. That was not a part of the plan, Sidious- Well, Sidious was dead. Killed by a lowly battle droid of all things. Anything Sidious had told Grievous was suseptible to scrutiny. That man had played the war like a game. Now, it was no game. Grievous knew that much. So the general thought on, how to get out of this situation. That was simpler than he thought. The whole reason he was headed to this site was to turn the tide of war once and for all. An alert beeped, they were coming out of hyperspace. He went to wake up his Jedi ally.

-Secret Construction Site, 1 light year off the Galactic Edge-

Commander OOM-27 was one of the few competent battle droids. He had been placed in charge when the commanding organic, a certain Lord Jerithox, fell ill. He'd be recovering soon, but for now, the droid was in charge. General Grievous's shuttle had just emerged from hyperspace, and was en route. Grievous would be pleased by the progress made on the Armada, and the progress made on the Ultimate Weapon. OOM-27 looked proudly over the vast contruction site, named NCY-1-U. It was the first of it's kind, designed to house the facilities for the Confederacy's greatest ships, and not to mention the Ultimate Weapon, though the spherical battle station's frame alone dwarfed the Naval Contruction Yard. Now it was time to greet the CIS's Head of State.

-General Grievous's _Sheathipede_-class shuttle, 1 light year off the Galactic Edge-

The construction yard was rapidly drawing nearer, and Esera Corin stared in awe at the massive works. She saw a grand total of three completed _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruisers, the same class the infamous _Malevolence_ belonged to. There were six others, all in various stages of building. And dwarfing them all was a massive frame of a spherical battle station, the same one she saw the plans for on Utapau. The thing was at least a hundred kilometers in diameter, if not far more, making the eight-kilometer _Subjugator_'s look tiny. And made even tinier were the thousands of smaller shipyard works, filled with _Munificent_'s, _Recusant_'s, and _Providence_'s. There were a few hundred larger ones, housing _Lucrehulk_-class ships, ring carriers and cores being assembled. And she guessed the large enclosed sections housed hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Vulture Droids and Hyena droids, and the deadly Tri-fighters. This place was ready for anything.

"Magnificent, isn't it. This is my first time seeing it for real." Spoke the general from the pilot's seat.

"Yes… It's… Well, it's…" Esera didn't know how to finish her sentence. "What are you planning, an assault on every world from Alderaan to Z'fell?"

"Technically, it's for breaking the Outer Rim sieges and forcing the Republic back into the Inner Rim and Core worlds. The Mid Rim will fall to us after the Outer Rim is liberated." Grievous answered. She could tell he was itching for a fight. And not just any fight, the battle of the century.

"Well, you shouldn't have trouble winning the war with all this. You really only would need a fraction of all this to turn the tide." Esera answered. Grievous snorted.

"There are three more facilities like this spread across the Galaxy. None are ready to began production though." Esera sighed. The cyborg had to be insane.

"How many of our world's resources will be consumed for all this?" She asked.

"I don't even know if we'll have to use planets." Answered the General.

"And what does that mean?" Esera asked.

"Shh…" Grievous whispered cryptically. The shuttle was hailed by a droid.

"General Grievous, welcome to NCY-1-U." It was a standard OOM-series commander droid.

"Why are you in charge?! Where is Lord Jerithox?!" Yelled the general.

"He's ill, I hold the power right now." The thing said proudly.

"Bah! Get a hangar ready…" Grievous looked quite mad. Esera was glad he wasn't taking out his anger on her. "Jedi, gather my things, get them to my room. All of them." Or maybe not…

-Hangar 23, NCY-1-U- one light year off the Galactic Edge-

The General's shuttle entered, and spun around so that the boarding ramp would face inwards. OOM-27 stood at attention, along with several other officers, with his best troops in formation to either side of the shuttle. Grievous didn't wait for the ramp to lower all the way; he walked out as soon as the door opened. His Jedi… associate, if that was the right term, followed shortly. The two approached the droid commander. "Welcome, General-"

"Shut up. What's the situation?" Grievous said briskly. OOM-27 was slightly taken aback, but according to OOM-919, this was the way he always acted.

"Uh, everything's fine, sir. All construction is on schedule, well, the _Subjugator_'s are ahead of schedule, actually. You'll find things have improved under my command." Reported the droid.

"I doubt that. You're a battle droid. Take me to Lord Jerithox."

"Alright, sir. But things have improved. Lord Jerithox doesn't trust droids; he was having the organic workers work on the Ultimate Weapon. They were getting tired, so I put them on rotating shifts with droids. Productivity has gone up 20%, sir." Grievous just eyed him. 27 went on. "I did the same thing with the _Subjugator_'s. I have droid and organics working constantly on them." Grievous chose to speak.

"Huh. You don't belong in that body." 27 was confused.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"You have the mind of a tactical droid, not a battle droid." The general simply stated. "Why?"

"Uh… Sir, that's not a question I can answer." That was a lie. OOM-27 could answer, but it'd be safer that he didn't. "I've always been above the rest. Ever since Geonosis. I don't know why." Again, a lie. It had started on Geonosis, but he knew why.

"Interesting. I'll investigate the mystery of you at a later time." 27 was not looking forward to that. "Now, how much further to Jerithox?"

"Soon, sir. Right… Here." OOM-27 stopped at the door of the medical area. Grievous walked in. The Jedi stayed outside. "Why are you at here?" 27 asked the obvious question to mask the revealment of his abnormality. She answered.

"He told me to bring all his stuff to his room. The General seems upset you're in charge, but I don't know why. He seems to hate droids…"

"I've noticed." Blast! There he went again, laying bare the fact that he wasn't a standard droid.

"You remind me of someone." That was out of the blue.

"Whom?" 27 inquired.

"Another droid… A Vulture droid of all things. It seemed to be more independent than the rest. Kind of like you." She said, looking off into space, literally. They were standing near a window.

"Perhaps. I'd like to meet this droid. Perhaps he and I could discuss why we are different."

"I'd like to discuss it too." Before the Jedi could say anything more, a clash sounded from inside the medical area. "Grievous…" She muttered, and ran in. 27 decided to go back to the command tower of the facility. As he walked down the dim metal halls, he thought of this Vulture droid that the Jedi had mentioned. OOM-27 didn't know that that Vulture droid was about to do something that would forever change the galaxy.

-Port Main Hangar, _Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

DFS-3ER was ready. He had tricked the Fighter Control Mainframe that he had no fuel, and used his superior programming to make a battle droid attack extra fuel tanks to his hull. Now, he had 70 minutes of fuel. That would be enough to rescue his prisoner. Problem was, the prisoner didn't know he was coming. 3ER felt nervous, a new feeling for the droid. He didn't like it. It wasn't a good feeling. 3ER found it entertaining that a droid could feel nervous. It just didn't sound right. It didn't feel right either. The time was nearly at hand. Soon, the next patrol of fighters would be launching out, and he'd go with them. Technically, he wasn't supposed too, but this was the only time within the next year that patrol changes and prison watch changes would occur at nearly the same time. _FIGHTER WINGS 1-10 RETURN. FIGHTER WINGS 11-20 PREPARE LAUNCH. ALL WINGS REPORT IN_. The computer announced to all the fighters in the hangar. _WING 1: CONDITION NORMAL. WING 2: CONDITION NORMAL. WING THREE: CONDITION NORMAL_… So it went on. Each lead fighter reported in, announcing his wing's status to the computer. _FIGHTER WINGS 11-20: CLEARED FOR LAUNCH_. This was it… 3ER dropped down from the ceiling rack, turned on engines, and sped out of the hangar. Within seconds, he was shooting free of the ship, still under repair from the incident at the Republic Inner Rim staging ground. 3ER wasted no time on getting away; he flew between other lesser ships, staying out of sight of the other fighters. The moment came when he was clear of the shipyard, and zooming to Sluis Van below, like an overpowered arrow. DFS-3ER was on his way to rescue someone that didn't know he was coming, and to find a hiding place that he didn't have yet.

-Medical area, NCY-1-U- one light year off the Galactic Edge-

Grievous towered over the ill Jerithox, looking ready to explode. The poor man looked scared out of his wits, but only the cyborg knew that his display of rage was a show. "Let me ask you again, why are you sick?!" Shouted the general. Lord Jerithox, of the Kresor race, coughed, a terrible hacking noise.

"I told you general, the Loron virus does things! It targets you immune system, and the next time you get sick, it's bad. Even a common cold like this is life threatening!" He explained.

"Shut up!" Grievous would have said more, but the Jedi, Esera Corin, walked in.

"What's going on in here?" She questioned. Jerithox looked relieved that Grievous's anger was diverted. "I heard a crash… That was you, general, I presume?"

"Yes." A medical droid lay in pieced on the other side of the room. "And who are you to question me?" The eyes of rage turned to the Jedi.

"I'm here to ensure that Lord Jerithox doesn't die because of you. You're unfamiliar with the Loron virus, aren't you, General?" The Jedi said.

"Maybe…" Grievous waited for here to go on.

"Like he said, the Loron virus targets the immune system. It won't kill you, but what ever little thing that comes next will. Half the Kresor race died because of it." Esera said. Grievous remembered something he had picked up during his days with the Banking Clan.

"Isn't the Loron virus easily curable?" He asked.

"Yes, but Thataliz was a poor planet then. The Senate denied it's requests for medical aid." Jerithox sat up a little.

"What do you know, someone familiar with the troubles of my people… Where'd you learn this?" Jerithox asked.

"I had a mission to Thataliz, back a while ago…" She looked off into space, not completely there…

-Xebos City, Thataliz, one week after the Battle of Geonosis-

She was sent here to bring Thataliz back into the Republic. It sounded easy enough. After all, the Republic was the right side. Jedi Knight Esera Corin was not expecting anything major to happen. The world's Senator approached. Just like planned. "Senator Thoraz, it's a-" She was cut off.

"Spare me your pleasantries, Jedi. We do not want you here." Thoraz brusquely stated. Esera was a little offended, but being blunt was a way of the Kresor, Thoraz's race.

"If you're going to be that way, I'll say what I came to say. Rejoin the Republic, and nothing will have ever happened. No punishments, no restrictions. We can give you protection, and you can give us some of your resources." She said. Thoraz made a noise vaguely like a snort.

"Why? Why should we join you again?" He asked. Esera had just told him, so she simplified it.

"Well, like I said, you will not be punished in anyway. We can give you protection from the Separatists, and you, in return, can aid our war effort with the ores beneath the surface of your world." She explained.

"You didn't answer my question. I asked why we should rejoin." Thoraz said.

"Look, you won't-" He cut her off again.

"I don't think you understand. Did you do any research on us at all? Do you even know why we left?" Thoraz asked.

"Well…"

"We left because your Republic failed. For a thousand years, we did everything a good little Republic world did. Then, when the Loron virus struck, you didn't do a damn thing. We sent plea after plea to the Senate, asking for medical aid, but they were all denied. You know why? Because of 'No value'. That's what our world was labeled as. We didn't have anything to contribute, so we got nothing in return. I watched half my people die because of your inaction. Then the Separatists came.

They offered us medical assistance. In return, we gave them our support. Then the ore was discovered, and the Republic comes running back to get their hands on it." Thoraz finished.

"But the Loron virus is easily curable. Why didn't you just purchase it?" Asked Esera. Thoraz made his hand into a fist, as if getting ready to strike something.

"Don't you Jedi listen? Or is your life in the Temple so sheltered that you have no idea what it's really like out here? We had nothing to contribute. We had no money. We couldn't go out and buy enough medicine to cure our planet. Your Republic could have, but they didn't. They denied our requests over and over. They willing let people die who could have been easily saved." He was starting to raise his voice.

"The Separatists don't often carry through with what they say, you know." Said the Jedi.

"You really have no idea what's happening out here, do you? Look over there, ignorant fool." Thoraz pointed to a transport bearing the markings of the CIS. And by it were droids unloading crates of medical supplies, also marked with the Separatist symbol.

"They will bring the war to your system though!" She exclaimed.

"No, Jedi, it is you who bring the war." Retorted Thoraz.

"The Separatists are wrong." She simply said. She was starting to think that he was convincing her of something, and that was not good.

"We are trying to create a new beginning. We are trying to end all the corruption that is what you fight for. And your Republic is trying to stop that. Now tell me who is wrong." The Jedi just turned and walked back to her ship. Her mission had backfired. Instead of convincing them to join the Republic, they had nearly convinced her to join the CIS. She had much to think about. If the Republic had failed here, how many other worlds had it failed?

-Medical area, NCY-1-U, one light year off the Galactic Edge (present day)-

"Well?" Grievous asked. The Jedi snapped back to reality.

"Oh, I was just remembering something. Happened right after Geonosis." Grievous snorted.

"So, Jerithox, get better. Soon. I need someone to command this place…" Grievous strode away, as best a hunched cyborg could, heading for the door. The Jedi followed him. Once out in the hall, the general spoke. "What exactly did happen on that mission to make you space out so much?"

"To sum it up, it was the day my faith in the Republic was first damaged."

"Must have been something… To have what you've always believed in suddenly revealed to be everything you think it isn't." Grievous said. Esera nodded.

"At the time, it was just kind of shocking. But the more I thought about it, the more it dawned on me that I was on the wrong side. By the time I was on Scykor, I had lost all faith." Said answered.

"I'd like to here about that as well."

"Maybe later. These are events that changed me life we're talking about, I just can't explain them all at once." The Jedi said.

"I know what you mean." Grievous agreed, getting a distant look in his eyes himself.

"Perhaps we could trade stories later. Learning the past of the mysterious General Grievous would be quite exciting." Grievous shook his head.

"Grim is the word I'd use." The two walked on, silently.


	9. Chapter 9: The Battle of NCY1U Interior

Author's note: After all this Vulture Droid philosophy, and Jedi musings, I decided that it was time for Grievous to get some straightforward action. Here's one big long lightsaber fight for you..

Plus, I was inspired today, so I wrote this whole chapter in a matter of hours. ENJOY. All © George Lucas and Co.

-War room, The _Apocalypse_ Weapon, Hyperspace-

Mace Windu stood hunched over the table detailing their plan for attack on the Separatist facility. Several other Jedi were with him, Kit Fisto, Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, Aayla Secura, and Ahsoka Tano. They were chosen either because they had faced Grievous before, or because they had the skill to face Grievous. This mission, if, no, when it succeeded, would bring an end to the war with the capture of Grievous. Padawan Tano though, she would be a liability in the mission. Grievous had killed her former master, and she probably would want to get revenge on the bloodthirsty cyborg. She would need to be watched.

The plan was to have the _Apocalypse_ Weapon shoot the facility, taking down a large amount of droids onboard. They would then target the spherical battle station, and hopefully take out whatever was on it too. They would then find Grievous, capture him if he had been caught in the weapon, and if not, they would fight him. While this happened, the twenty odd _Imperator_'s, forty odd _Venator_'s and sixty odd _Aclamator_'s would attack the ships at the facility. Windu hoped to whatever higher power that there might be that not one _Subjugator_ had it's Ion Pulse Cannon operational. But, it wouldn't matter; the whole fleet would be spread apart. Soon now, they would be at the facility. The scouts had further pinpointed it's position, with the help of a very good pilot and a stealth ship. Master Windu looked at the fleet, and looked at the Jedi he had assembled. Grievous and his droid didn't stand a chance.

-Main Bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser-

"Being up here gives me memories. Good memories, bad memories…" Grievous rambled. Esera Corin looked about the bridge with its red screens and buttons.

"It's different from other CIS ships. More menacing." She said.

"Dooku requested it be red. I wanted it to be green readouts, but no… Red is hard on my eyes." Grievous clenched a fist.

"Well, you're in control here. You can just change them to green now." She suggested.

"It would be disrespectful to his legacy. We owe Dooku a lot, the least we can do is keep the bridge of these ship's the way he wanted them." The cyborg looked at the other two _Subjugator_'s that were complete, _Serenno_, named in honor of Dooku's home world, and _Independence_, named for one of the ideal's the Confederacy fought for. "Which one do you want?" He asked.

"Excuse me?" Esera wasn't expecting this, by her expression. Grievous looked at her.

"Which one do you want? I'm giving you one." He waited for an answer. He needed at least one other competent commander on one of his best ships. She looked bewildered.

"Um… Uh… That one, I guess…" She pointed at _Serenno_.

"Alright, it's yours. Get a shuttle over there." He said.

"But, just like that? I have one of the best ships in the Confederate Navy?" She questioned.

"Yes." Grievous said with annoyance.

"But I don't even have a rank yet!" She exclaimed. Grievous rolled his reptilian eyes.

"Then you better go earn one with that ship! Move!" He yelled. The Jedi scampered off the bridge of _Cataclysm_. Grievous hoped he was making a good decision. The cyborg brought up the upgrades he had added onto all the _Subjugator_'s. Their IPC's were greatly improved, designed not to overload if one was destroyed, the factor that had doomed _Malevolence_, and their range and area of effect had been increased. Grievous had also studied the way he was restored after being hit by the Republic's new weapon. There were plans in the work of how to use the IPC's to actually reboot the droids, and negate the effects of the new weapon. But those were far from complete. The General had his favorite chair, the one from Vesilath, brought aboard and placed on the bridge. He sank into it, the chair absorbing even the cyborg's size. Grievous closed his eyes, and prepared to relax… And then a droid said something.

"General, we have just detected traces of a set of ion engine trails. They seem to be the kind used on Republic ships." Grievous sighed, and then growled. He stood up, straightened his cloak, and walked to the droid.

"What?" He asked.

"The radiation trails left by the engines match the ones of an ARC-170." The droid stated again. "And there is a left over footprint of what appears to be some kind of stealthing material." The battle droid looked up at Grievous.

"No… They can't have found us. No. No. They can't have… Move!" He near-yelled. The droid stood and moved aside. Grievous sat down and his metal fingers clicked on the keys of the controls. "Blast!" He shouted. "They've found us!" The detectors placed in hyperspace around the facility were picking up a massive Republic fleet. Grievous was enraged, then fearful, then joyful. They didn't know that just under half the facility's ships were ready for combat. Grievous got on the comm. to all ships. "This is General Grievous, we will be under attack shortly. All crews to your ships, arm all weapons, ready all fighters and bombers, and spread out! Spread out! Repeat: Spread out!" Grievous issued orders across all frequencies. He didn't care if the Republic heard, but he did care about his –Well, not really his, the people of the Confederacy's, as it was their money paying for it- battle station. Grievous knew that there would be Jedi coming, that they wanted to capture him. The Republic seemed under the delusion that if he were captured, the Separatists would surrender. Well, some, like the Nemoidians would, but others, like the Vesila or Sluissi, would fight on to the bloody end.

The Confederate fleet began to disperse from their docks, spreading out over thousands of kilometers. Grievous watched with pride as the ships took up battle positions. This was a force worthy of his command. A central battle line began to form behind the _Cataclysm_, a few dozen _Lucrehulk_'s, and many _Munificent_'s, _Recusant_'s, and a handful of _Providence_'s following the ship. The majority of operational ships were in Grievous's line. _Serenno_ and _Independence_ led the other two, smaller, lines. He knew Esera Corin was on _Serenno_, and she had experience in fleet battles. Grievous knew that _Independence_ was to fall under the command of Lord Jerithox, but he was not in fighting condition. That left his second in command in charge of it: OOM-27, the battle droid. The cyborg cringed at the thought of a battle droid in charge of a warship of that value. Oh well, at least there were more ships in production. Suddenly, the Republic fleet emerged from hyperspace. "CHARGE PLASMA ROTORS!" he screamed, both to his ship and the other two. No mistakes could be afforded. And woe upon who ever made one…

-Command Bridge, The _Apocalypse_ Weapon, 20,000 kilometers from NCY-I-U-

"What?!" Windu shouted. A massive amount of Separatist ships waited before him, spread out in three long battle lines, each led by a _Subjugator_ Heavy Cruiser. And those _Subjugator_'s were each charging their Ion Pulse Cannon's. "Evasive maneuvers, now!" He ordered. "This is Windu to Fisto, Windu to Fisto!" He repeated on his commlink.

"Fisto here." Answered the other Jedi.

"Get the boarding ship ready, I'll meet you on it shortly." Windu commanded. He didn't wait for the answer. "Get that weapon charged!" He yelled to the clones. With that, he rushed out of the bridge, and through the well-lit halls. The 'boarding ship' they'd be using was a _Consular_-class frigate, and it was heavily armored in the front, specifically for ramming into the facility. Fisto had thought of it, borrowing the idea from Separatist boarding craft. Finally, Master Windu arrived in the hangar. He got on the boarding craft, painted all black to blend in with the backdrop of space. All the other Jedi where there. "Let's go." He said. The boarding ship dropped out of the hangar, and shot off toward the facility. They didn't know what was in store for them.

-Main Bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser-

"Fire!" Grievous ordered. Three disks of ionized energy blasted at the Republic fleet, spreading out and going right through them. About a third of the Republic ships were hit, as was their super weapon. Grievous found it amusing that only a third of the ship was hit. Unfortunately, the ion pulse set off it's weapon in some weird scientific collision of energy. The beam of blue light his a part of the facility, but not all. Grievous clenched a fist as he saw a half complete _Subjugator_ get it. There went a lot of work droids. Then, he saw a black shape moving toward the station. "Jedi…" He muttered. "You're in charge!" He yelled, pointing at a command droid. He didn't care about _Cataclysm_ right now; all he cared is that he would get to fight some worthy opponents.

Grievous rushed into the turbolift, and down, down to the rail jets. And on those, rushed to the hangars. And he rushed to his fighter, _Soulless One_. Grievous climbed in, making sure he had four lightsabers, and shot off to the construction yard, instead of the main facility. From there, he would turn the main power off, making things just that more fun. The fast little fighter quickly over took the ship the Jedi were using, but they had no idea he was out in space with them. The fighter attached it self to the side of a wall, and Grievous magnetized his feet to stay attached to it and not float off. The cyborg opened a service hatch, and went through. He was near the main electrical shut off. This was good. General Grievous quickly walked along the empty, dim hallway, quivering with the excitement at the fight he would be soon having. The cyborg found the room, and inside was a big red switch. He flipped it, and watched the readouts as the lights dimmed even more, and completely shut off. Before that last bit of energy exited the system, Grievous located the Jedi. They were near the facility's main reactor. This would be a good fight. Of course, what General Grievous didn't know, is that instead of the master-knight-padawan team he was expecting, there were four masters, a knight, and a padawan.

-Hallway C, Deck 31, NCY-1-U-

Grievous lurked in the shadows, the Jedi were coming. He could hear voices, more than thought would be here. That didn't mean much, because there would be more for the slaughter. He would be fine if he took down at least two thirds of them. They were about to turn the corner. Grievous grabbed his lightsabers, readied his arms to split in to two, and stood up to his full height. Then, they came around. "Whoa!" He heard one shout. Light's went on, all shining at him.

"Welcome, Jedi, to Naval Construction Yard One! I hope you will enjoy your stay." Grievous said to them, looking down. He couldn't make out who they were yet, but he had a feeling he would know soon enough. Six lightsabers came on, one purple, three blue, and two green. With their combined glow, he recognized some of them. There was Shaak Ti, whom he had fought twice, Aayla Secura, from the Hypori fight, Kit Fisto, whom he hated more than the others, and, the one he just laughed at: Ahsoka Tano. There was one he didn't know, a Kel Dor. But then he noticed the purple lightsaber again. Purple. It was Mace Windu, the worst of the lot. The one who had crushed his chest with the force. Grievous hated him more then Fisto.

"Grievous, surrender, and perhaps we might spare you." Commanded the hated one, Windu. The general shook his head.

"You should be the one surrendering." Grievous unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the floor, and broke his arms in two, a lightsaber in each of his four hands. He began to spin two of them, like deadly, colored, saws, and advanced on the Jedi. Grievous didn't care if they sliced into the wall, that didn't matter. The sparks made the scene more intimidating. The six backed up. Then, the young Togruta, Ahsoka, charged. His lightsabers clashed against hers, and other attacked two. Grievous quickly found himself in over his head. These Jedi were good. Both Shaak Ti and Tano were attacking from one side, Windu and Fisto from another, and Secura and the unknown Kel Dor from yet another. Grievous had to work fast to keep from being damaged. This tactic of fighting them all at once wasn't working. Quickly, Grievous needed to level the odds. A powerful talon smashed into Fisto, grabbing him by the chest, and hitting him against the ground several times. The Twi'lek Secura yelled in anger, and ran for him. Just like Grievous wanted. He spun a lightsaber at her, temporarily distracting the Jedi. Then, he made a slash at the Kel Dor, and it got him in the shoulder. He had to back out. Now it was four versus four. The Twi'lek was still blindly attacking him, with no technique or skill. Grievous laughed, and backhanded her down the hall. But, now the Kel Dor was back in the game.

"Tell, me Jedi, what is you name?" Grievous asked him, across clashing lightsabers.

"It's Plo Koon, and you better remember it, General." He said, making a slash up at Grievous. It made a slight scorch mark across his chest plate.

"I will, Jedi, I will." With that, Grievous jumped over his head, and behind him. As he turned, Grievous sliced one of his hands off. Koon fell to the ground. Shaak Ti and Ahsoka took on the General now. The cyborg noted to himself the Windu and Fisto had disappeared. Ahsoka stabbed at him, and Grievous deflected it. As he did that, the other Togruta made a lunge for his legs, hoping to cut them off. The general kicked her away. "Ah, Ahsoka, we fight again. This time Anakin isn't here to save you. Where is he anyway? Oh, that's right, I killed him. You remember, don't you? Watching that broadcast, helplessly watching as I destroyed your precious Chosen One?" She didn't say anything, but the anger in her eyes turned into hate. Grievous laughed as he brought down four lightsabers on her one. She faltered under the relentless barrage of blows. Finally, she fell, unable to block any more. As he was preparing to rid the universe of the orange menace, Windu and Fisto appeared. "A real challenge. Finally."

"You're no challenge, Grievous." Windu said.

"It is a grave mistake to think like that, Master Windu." Grievous's voice was laced with contempt. He began moving his blades in long sweeping motions, two in one direction, two in another. Doing this, he advanced on them. Without warning, he leapt at Fisto, swinging his sabers wildly, without pattern. The green skinned Jedi was overwhelmed, and had to retreat. Shaak Ti and Ahsoka were back on their feet, joining Windu in fighting the Confederacy's Head of State. Grievous spun his lightsabers again, forming an impenetrable wall of light and energy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Plo Koon rise. Grievous stopped spinning his sabers, and turned to him, laughing. He stabbed the Koon with all four weapons, lifting him up on them, and smashing him to the ground.

"No!" Ahsoka yelled, and Fisto, just rejoining the fight, looked horrified. Grievous stepped on the Jedi's body, picking up his lightsaber with a foot. Now it was five sabers versus four. But Grievous had to stand where he was. All four began a furious assault of attacks, but the General returned with his own speed and strength. It seemed they were deadlocked, until Aayla Secure rejoined, having recovered from being backhand slapped down a hall. Grievous sighed, and realized he was just barely outmatched by all of them. He needed a distraction, fast. So the general jumped up to the ceiling, and magnetized. He scuttled along it, and down another dark hall. That hall led into the main reactor room. The Jedi would follow, after regrouping. This gave him time to lay an ambush.

Grievous didn't have room to put Koon's lightsabers anywhere, so he hid it inside one of his chest plates. It would have to do for now. Then, he climbed above the doorway, and attached himself to the wall, high above in the shadows. The only light in the room came from the main reactor, a sphere of energy being contained by size field projectors. It flickered like fire. Soon, the five Jedi ran in, looking for them. Fisto would be the first to die, Grievous decided. He jumped down, landing heavily on the Jedi's back. He stumbled and struggled, but Grievous held on tight, clawing his back apart with his talons stabbing him with sabers. It was excessive, but he deserved it for invading Grievous's home. The General stowed Fisto's lightsaber in his chest plate as well. The others were horrified at the bloody work of Grievous. Windu stepped forward, anger in his eyes. Ahsoka's eyes were filled with rage, as were Aayla's. Grievous laughed at them. "See, Jedi, that is the price you pay for invading my home." Grievous said to the body of Fisto.

He charged the remaining four, one of his lightsabers striking one of theirs. He began to land blow after blow against all of them, singling out the weakest of them, Ahsoka. But his attention was diverted when Mace Windu force-pushed him down. Grievous targeted him. All four lightsabers began clashing with his purple one, neither of the two refusing to give away. They were equals, it appeared. Until Windu gave away and backed off, weary of the cyborg's mechanical strength. Shaak Ti, Secura, and Tano attacked. Grievous towered over them, the look of superiority in his eyes, spinning his blades, and adding to the kaleidoscope of colors already flashing about the room. All was going well for the CIS's Head of State until Windu rejoined the fight. He landed a force push square in Grievous's chest, sending him flying back into the hallway. Grievous's breath was knocked out of him, and he scuttled on all size limbs into another shadowy passage, luring the Jedi into another trap of his. As soon as he found a cleaning closet, he stepped into it, and waited. His audio receptors picked them up long before any normal person could hear them.

The tall cyborg leapt out of the cleaning closet and attacked them right as they got to where he was. They were surprised. So surprised, Aayla was, that she didn't raise her lightsaber to block Grievous when he stabbed her. She wasn't dead, but she would be soon if she didn't get medical attention. Shaak Ti dragged her way. Grievous didn't care, and yet he knew it'd come back to bother him one day. Now it was Ahsoka and Mace Windu left. Windu pulled another force push, and sent Grievous crashing into a large storage room. His lightsabers went tumbling under an especially large crate. Not good. So the general crouched, waiting for them to separate. Windu said some words to Ahsoka, and they did indeed spilt up. Bad mistake. Grievous lifted a crate, and threw it at Windu. The Jedi was either knocked out or dazed. But that left Ahsoka to get rid of. He beard down on her, and lightsabers or no lightsabers, he looked intimidating. She ran at him with her saber, but her merely swatted her out of the way. Now she was unarmed. Grievous stomped down, but missed her head. He tried to smash her with his feet several times, but she was too fast. Perhaps a broken rib would slow her down.

Grievous landed a punch that could dent metal in her side. He heard a good snap. Unfortunately, no blood. Yet. He lifted her up by the neck and tossed her over his head. She slammed into the wall, bleeding from the head. Good. Grievous laughed, and hit her again; hard enough send her sailing twenty feet through the air. She screamed in pain as he grabbed her leg and slammed her against the ground again. Ahsoka was now bloodied and battered, no condition to fight. But that didn't stop him. He picked her up again and swung her around into a crate. This was too fun. Grievous lifted her now body with his talon smashed it into the ground. She was almost gone. And now, for his final display, stood her up, drew back his hand, and drove it claws first into her body, sharp fingers ripping apart organs and flesh alike. With his other hand, he tore on of her arms. He ignored the piercing screams, and stuck both hands inside of the wound he had created below her neck. In a final display of brutality, he tore her open. She wasn't gone yet, still barely alive. "How's this for irony?!" Grievous yelled, and stabbed her through the head with Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber. Ahsoka Tano was dead, a triumphant Grievous splattered with gore stood over her.

The General, in his victory, had forgotten about Mace Windu. The cyborg moved the crate his lightsabers were under, with some effort, and grabbed hold of them. He picked up Ahsoka's from the gory mess that was her remains, and placed it inside his chest plate, along with Koon's and Fisto's. Three down, three to go. Grievous suddenly remembered Windu, and advanced to the fallen Jedi as he tried to get up. The CIS Head of State lifted up the purple-saber wielding man, and threw him a good twenty feet. Grievous wished he had stabbed him, but he was still in the set of mind to toy with his opponents. He snapped out of it. Windu, too weary to fight right now, climbed into an air vent and escaped. Grievous decided to hunt down Secura and Ti. Because of Secura's stab wound, Grievous thought the logical place to go was the medical area. The general stalked through the dark halls, and climbed up a turbo lift shaft, until he got to the right floor. He stalked along the corridors, and found the med bay. He heard talking inside.

"Did you hear those screams?"

"Yes… Oh Force, poor Ahsoka…"

"She deserved it!" Grievous knew that was the voice of Lord Jerithox.

"You sick…" The rest was cut off when Grievous stepped through the door.

"Yes, he is sick. Leave him alone, he needs rest. Now if you two would surrender your arms, I'll give you a swift and painless death. After all, I have a battle out there to command." The General had just remembered that the Republic was out there attacking. The two Jedi, Aayla Secura and Shaak Ti turned on their lightsabers, ready to fight. Secura didn't look too good, though. "Very well, a slow death it is. Or worse." Grievous leapt at them, using only two sabers now. Grievous kicked Secura, causing her to cry out in pain as she crashed into a wall.

"Get out of here, Aayla!" Yelled Shaak Ti. Grievous didn't care about her, she was lesser quarry. Shaak Ti wasn't doing that well, faltering when the strong blows from Grievous's mechanical limbs bore down on her, smashing into her lightsaber's shining blue blade. Grievous laughed again, amused by the fight the weakening Jedi was putting up. Shaak Ti used the force to send a box flying at Grievous, which knocked him down. She poised her blade, about the stab the cyborg on the ground, when she collapsed unconscious. Lord Jerithox stood weakly behind her, holding the pole that mounted the screen that displayed his vitals.

"Good work, Lord Jerithox. I think you've earned your rest." Grievous told him, as the general picked up the Jedi's saber, and picked up the unconscious Jedi.

"Damn right I have, sir." He lay back down, and closed his eyes. Grievous would let Secura and Windu get away, Grievous was too tired to go after them. The general contacted some workers in the construction yard to turn the power back on. Soon enough, the lights flickered on, and Grievous carried Shaak Ti to the prison block. He tossed he in a cell, and gave her a good dose of Force suppressant. A Jedi prisoner! What fun he would have… For now, though, he had to get back to the space battle. Grievous ran back to where the fight had begun, over the body of Plo Koon, and grabbed his cloak. He placed all the lightsabers he had taken today in extra pockets. He was still laughing over the fact that he had killed Skywalker's apprentice with his own lightsaber. Grievous ran swiftly the halls, and back to where he had landed his fighter. Rushing by a window, and then stopping to look out it, Grievous saw an amazing sigh.

_Cataclysm_ wasn't destroyed. In fact, it was inside the Republic fleet, leading the battle line, destroying many ships. _Serenno_ and _Independence_ weren't gone either. The _Apocalypse_ Weapon was dead in space, and the Republic fleet was burning.

Nothing had gone wrong! Nothing at all! _Everything_ had gone the way he wanted today! Grievous laughed. He laughed until he couldn't. Today was the perfect day.

Author's note: I spelt kaleidoscope right on my first try! I am winner! So, who thought Ahsoka's death was brutal enough? I think it was. Shaak Ti will now be featured in the story, but not a main character. I've read a ton of stuff about Grievous and Shaak Ti, but I assure you, this _probably_ won't go in that direction. Too early to tell though. And Aayla Secura will be back, with a vendetta. Windu won't appear in action for a while, but he'll fight Grievous for one last time. Near the end of this story. But Jedi fighting is far from over. There's plenty of others left to kill.

For anyone who thinks that Plo Koon went down to easy, keep in mind he shoulder was hurt and his hand was cut off.

Why is this note so long? Uploader has been giving me "try again in a few minutes" for the past 6 or 7 hours…

And next chapter? SPACE BATTLE! Yes, next chapter will deal only with OOM-27 and Esera Corin. And no ponderings either. Just them commanding ships and fighting. Concurrent to this chapter. I think I might add some other people in, just for some more points of view. Maybe a droid marine, maybe a clone, maybe a Separatist ship captain. Leave your idea in a review.


	10. Chapter 10: The Battle of NCY1U Space

-Main Bridge, _Serenno_, 900 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

Esera Corin walked nervously across the bridge of the, well, her ship. It had been very sudden, for lack of a better word, to be given one of the galaxies most powerful ships. She had just received word that Grievous had left _Cataclysm_, to engage some Jedi on the station. This left two droids and her to command the Confederate Fleet. She contacted OOM-27 and OOM-451 on _Independence_ and _Cataclysm_. The two droids appeared before her in holograms, life size.

"Alright, what's our plan of attack?" She asked. 27 was first to answer.

"451, take the central line into the middle of their fleet. I and you, Jedi, we will take the flanks of the enemy. Simple enough, right?" Asked the droid.

"I agree." Said OOM-451. Esera nodded.

"So, Jedi, form a half circle around the flank you're attacking. I'll do the same on my side. 451, you'll enter the middle of the enemy. Spare none. And keep your ships in formation, we don't want any of our own getting caught in our net." Explained the droid commander. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir..?" Answered Esera, unsure if the droid was a superior officer or not. 451 was less experienced than 27, therefore lower rank, but answered with a firm:

"Roger, roger." The droid said some more, not wanting to end on the reminder of that horrible hard-wired program: "I'll keep my ships in order." With that, the meeting was done, and the battle began. Esera stared out the windows of the great bridge, watching as 451's line seemingly collide with the Republic fleet, breaking through it like a massive dagger. OOM-27's fleet engaged the enemy, red lasers spewing out into the Star Destroyers. Then, Esera's line opened fire, and received fire. _Serenno_'s shields were too strong for anything to damage them, so the _Subjugator_ plowed on right into the middle of their lines. She received new orders from 27, to have the lesser ships stay at the front of Republic lines, while the three Heavy Cruisers battered them from the inside. Esera ordered fighters and bombers to launch, as did the two droid commanders. The Confederate Jedi stood near the gunnery droids, directing their fire where she wanted it to go.

-NQS-391, _Hyena_-class Droid Bomber, 1000 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

The bomber swerved out of the great ship's hangar, what was essentially his home, in organic terms. He was followed by several other bombers, and surrounded by Variable Geometry Self Propelled Battle Droids, or Vulture droids to organics. He shot for the nearest ship, an _Imperator_-class Star Destroyer. _ALERT: HOSTILE UNITS INCOMING_ announced his ship's fighter control computer. Sure enough, enemy machines were in bound, controlled by their organic masters. Green lasers rushed past him, smashing several of his escort. The bombers like him were tougher, and a few just shrugged off hits from the inferior Republic craft. 391 was suddenly aware of more hostile units, coming from the back. The bomber did a barrel roll, as it was called by organics, simultaneously shutting down his engines and flipping around, unleashing a torrent of lasers at the Republic ship. He watched in what might be satisfaction as it burst into flames and spiraled out of control into another enemy unit. NQS-391 faced to his target again, letting of a burst of his engines, and braced for the point defense fire.

Surely enough, small blue lasers were screaming past him, in almost every direction, hitting more of his escort and fellow bombers. A lurch and blast signaled that he himself had been hit. To try and throw off the enemy gunners, he pulled another barrel roll. It was becoming his maneuver of the day. Then, the time had come. The bridge tower of the _Imperator_ was in sight. 391 opened his ordnance bay, and released his payload. Ten shield-breaker missiles flowed out, leaving straight clean trails behind them. His warheads hit, bursting up in flares of light, heat, and radiation that briefly made everything else incredibly dark. Sensors indicated the shields were down, and 391 was still on approach. He released the rest of his payload, standard anti-ship missiles. They streaked through space, and collided with the bridge tower, ripping holes in the plating and decks inside. He swerved out of the way, letting the other bombers fire their ordinance, taking out the _Imperator_'s bridge tower. The massive ship had probably re-routed systems control to the secondary control, but it was of no consequence. 391's programming told him that with the outer armor of a good portion of the hull gone, the vulnerable inner hull would be exposed to fire from other ships. Even another wave of bombers could take the ship out. NQS-391 turned back to his ship, objective complete.

-Main Bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser 920 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

Ships scattered like leaves before the great bow of the _Cataclysm_, trying to avoid being torn apart by lasers or simply smashed by the huge ship's hull. The little Star Destroyers didn't stand a chance against the Confederate fleet, they were greatly outnumbered. A hundred and twenty or so Republic ships against the near thousand of Separatist ships. This battle would be over before it began. OOM-451 overlooked the scene of chaos out beyond the hull of the cruiser. Then he saw something he didn't like. The Republic's super weapon was turning toward his battle line. How was it still active? 451 then recalled that only a third of the ship was hit by the IPC's. Speaking of those, they were still recharging, on all three _Subjugator_'s. "Uh oh…" He said out loud to the bridge crew of droids. "Uh, redirect all fire at the Republic's weapon!" Suddenly, the spray of red lasers stopped from the starboard side of the Confederate ships in his line. It would take a number of seconds to re-calculate their firing solutions, but those seconds might be too long: 451 saw the arms channeling energy into the dish. Then, it fired. A bright blue beam shot out of the dish, fanning out like it was a shotgun of energy. About a third of 451's line was hit. The ships were fine, but the he knew the droids were shut down. "All ships affected by the Republic weapon, retreat, I repeat, all ships affected by the Republic weapon retreat!" Ordered the droid. From the bridge, he saw a good deal of frigates and destroyers, not to mention nearly half his battleships turn about and head for NCY-1-U. The loss of those battleships would hurt. Luckily, he still had half of them. Unluckily, the Republic weapon was sheltering behind several _Venator_'s now.

The thing was probably charging again, this time aimed at the defector Jedi's line. All ships reported in that their batteries had a new firing solution, but just then, the weapon fired on the Jedi's line. One of her battle ships, and about a few score of frigates and destroyers were hit. 451 clenched his mechanical fist. This thing fired fast. Too fast. "Sir! Our ships have a firing solution on the weapon!" announced a droid.

"Fire then!" He ordered. The spray of red lasers started again, battering the ships surrounding the weapon. An _Imperator_ moved in to help with the defense, using it's powerful shields to deflect incoming ordinance from Separatist lines. Even if the Republic was doomed to lose this battle, they were putting up a hell of a fight. Then, the accursed blue beam shot from behind the star destroyers again, hitting some of OOM-27's _Providence_'s, and couple frigates, and the lowest portions of _Independence_. Enough was enough.

"Alright, that's it! Plot a course right to the weapon, we're going to ram through those ships if we have too!" Ordered the droid commander.

"Sir?" Questioned another droid, probably one of the pilots. OOM-451 pointed at the cluster of Republic ships.

"All ahead full! Forward batteries target those Star Destroyers!" He shouted. If only Grievous where here to see this, thought the droid. Slowly but surely, the great _Subjugator_ picked up speed. _Cataclysm_ broke off from the main line, lurching toward the Star Destroyers, spraying lasers of red at them. The massive cruiser began to hurtle towards the Republic's super weapon, getting faster and faster. The Star Destroyers started to move, but maybe not fast enough. "All hands, brace for impact!" Announced 451 to the whole ships. Just then, the pointed prow of the ship smashed into the hull of an _Imperator_, spitting it in half, turbolaser batteries spewing their deadly fire at the remaining chunks. That didn't stop the _Cataclysm_ though. It continued on, just barely missing the Republic weapon. That was of no consequence, though. They were near it.

"Launch boarding ships! Get those Commandoes over there!" Ordered 451, enjoying himself, and enjoying the success of his plan so far. Somewhere far below in the ship, the Commando droids were boarding their boarding craft, getting ready to board the Republic weapon, in an old fashioned ship-boarding. In minutes, the small gray craft were shooting out of the hangars, piercing through the armored hull. 451 went about the work of destroying the Republic fleet, letting the Commando droids do their work.

-Hallway 912, The _Apocalypse_ Weapon, 910 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

Unit BX-821 leapt down from the _Droch_-class boarding ship, landing low to the ground, ready for whatever the Republic had to throw at him or his fellow commandoes. Unit BX-33 was the first down, like a good commander, leading the way. He silently raised his mechanical arm, motioning them forward. No words were needed. BX-33, BX-821, BX-823, and BX-826 all advanced up the hall, silently, soundlessly, sneakily. Their mission: Capture the bridge. General Grievous's last message since disappearing back into the construction facility was that all the Jedi were off the ship, leaving only clones on board. All to easy…

Suddenly, 33 raised his arm and open hand, signaling a halt. Another hand signal; the droids drew their vibroblades. Voices came from up ahead, clone voices. BX-33 had led 821 and the others on many missions, only three, 822, 824, and 825 had been lost, the droids knew what to do. As soon as the clones turned the corner, the commandos with swords were upon them, hacking and slicing so fast, the organics didn't even have time to react. A bloody mess, but the job was done. 821 realized that no alarms were going off. Something was amiss, it seemed. The 4 droids quickly advanced up the hall, making for the turbo lifts. 823 forced the door open, and the droids moved in. 33 calmly pressed the button for the bridge. The clones were in for quite a surprise. The lift shot up, up to the decks above. Then it slowed. The droid readied their blasters. Soon now… With a jolt, the lift stopped, and the doors opened. Several clones turned their heads to see who had arrived on the bridge. Four commando droids were the last thing they expected. "Greeting, organics." Stated BX-33, as the four stepped out of the lift.

"What the-!?" The clone was shot in the head before he finished his statement. The four opened fire on the bridge, gunning down all. BX-821 leapt over a console, and crouched down. It was his job to stop the weapon from firing again. As all the organics died around him, the commando entered the ship's power system, trying to shut it off. As the last clone fell, propulsion systems went off line. The ship was now drifting. Mission complete. Now, they had to just hold out here until they could figure out how to vent the ship's air.

-Main Bridge, _Serenno_, 910 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

Esera Corin grabbed hold of a droid's chair as the ship rocked from another Republic volley. Probably the last Republic volley too, considering how their fleet was collapsing around them. All around, Star Destroyers went up in flames, or out in flames, considering the lack of gravity. Air rushed out breaches, explosions ripped through hulls, metal shards broke free and hurled into the void, all around, the red lasers of the Confederacy flew. This was their victory. An incoming transmission:

"Sir, we have taken the bridge of the Republic super weapon, and have vented all air in the ship. It's ours now." Spoke a droid commando, BX series. Esera felt a surge of relief. It was over now.

"Good, good, get more of our troops on that ship. Corin out." She shut off the hologram, and sank into a chair. She attempted to contact Grievous, but to no avail. So it was to OOM-27 instead. The droid appeared, standing with mechanical hands on mechanical hips. "Uh… Sir, I've received word that the Republic's weapon is under our control. This battle is practically ours."

"Nice work, Jedi, is what I would say if you had ordered those troops aboard. Unfortunately for you, it was OOM-451 who ordered them aboard. We droids deserve credit for what we do, and I don't take kindly to thieves." The commander scolded.

"I… I wasn't claiming credit for anything… Sir. I'm just reporting the situation." Said she, taken aback by OOM-27's attitude.

"Good…" Said the droid. "Now, mop up the survivors. Let's put an end to this."

"Yes, sir." The Jedi replied gladly.

-Main Bridge, _Independence_, 932 kilometers from NCY-1-U-

The droid commander leaned back against the wall, watching his fellow automatons decimate the remaining Republic ships. Another victory for the Confederacy was at hand. He decided to contact General Grievous, and he replied.

"Yes?" The cyborg cheerfully said. Cheerfully? That wasn't right.

"Sir, are you ok?" Questioned 27.

"Yes, quite fine. I've just taken 4 Jedi's lightsabers. Now, what?"

"We've crushed the Republic-"

"I can see it quite fine from here."

"-And we captured the weapon." Grievous stared at the droid. Then he closed his eyes and raised a single fist.

"This is the. Best. Day. Ever." OOM-27 was scared by the General's lack of anger.

"Uh, ok, sir. Anything you want us to do?"

"Ready _Cataclysm_ for my arrival. I'm going home." Said he.

"Home, sir?" Asked 27, confused.

"Yes, home, stupid droid." That was more Grievous like. "Home to Kalee. I've got a family to visit."

Author's note: See!? Told you I'm not dead. I just hit writer's block, then read a good story about Grievous (in my opinion) that inspired me: .com/art/My-Reason-to-Live-Part-1-121394155

Anyways, that smashed the block like the Seps smashed the Reps in this episode. And this is the first of many stunning victories by Grievous and gang. After all, who better to start fighting the horrible bias against the CIS in official Star Wars media than me?


	11. Chapter 11: Discovery

**Author's (long) note**: Sorry it's been since forever since the last time I updated. Forever being from May 4th till today, August 10… Basically, the end of the Clone Wars season 1 ended my flow of hate towards the show; hate being my writing fuel for this story. Since then, I've been working on this chapter bit by bit over the summer, only really finishing it in these past few hours. Other wise, I've been doing other things, other writings. And of course, there's the summer trips going all over the place.

Long story short, I kept forgetting, then trying to write once I remembered, but nothing came. My hate fuel was gone. I watched an episode though, Destroy Malevolence or whatever, and I had a brief supply of hate to write the end of this chapter, and a good deal of the next one. If I can keep things alive until season 2 starts up, this story won't be ending any time soon.

One last thing, I never die. I've been semi-active on this site the whole time. And if this chapter seems awkward, it's because it was written paragraph by paragraph over a few months. Not a good way to write. As expected, all rights go to the man himself, Lucas. Now, without further ado, here it is, chapter 11:

-Main Bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, hyperspace-

The great General Grievous paced anxiously about his bridge, watching the minutes trickle slowly by. It had already been a full 24 hours since he embarked from NCY-1-U, and he still had nearly 48 more to reach Kalee. To pass the time, Grievous had taken to playing games of tactics against the ship's computer, to work on his military strategy and abilities, as kind of a retribution for the early days of the war, when the Jedi and their slave clones seemed to beat him at every turn. Well, that Ahsoka and Anakin were dead, along with Plo Koon and Kit Fisto. That was a good number of his defeaters defeated. But there were always more. Grievous could take satisfaction in the noteworthy accomplishment of having three of his greatest adversaries lightsaber's in his cloak though. The CIS's Head of State continued his pacing, oblivious that somewhere, on a planet named Sluis Van, a very strange event was about to occur.

-Alkier Prison, Sluis Van, 10,000 Meters Above Ground-

DFS-3ER glided down through the cloudy skies, vision obscured by the layer of moisture. It was right at dawn, above, but still dark below. Only guidance thrusters remained on in terms of movement, 3ER didn't want them to be alerted. Them as in the prison. Alkier Prison and it's guards. The man he was searching for was named Nomar Thorae, a Sluissi. According the Computer Information System (also named CIS, much to the confusion of the common Separatist), he was in Cell Block 12, Row Y. It was a large prison. And Row Y happened to be near a guard tower. 3ER was having more and more doubts about this by the second. 5,000 meters, enclosing fast. It wasn't too late to break off and go back-

"Unknown vessel, this is Sluissi Air Control. Break off your decent and return to orbit. Repeat: Break off your decent and return to orbit." A voice, and organic voice, said to 3ER. Yes, it was too late to turn back now. The droid fighter activated his main engines and shot through the cloud layer, once more like an over powered arrow. His fuel would pay for this, that was for sure. Suddenly, the land lay below him, a patchwork of farms, towns, and roads, laid bare for him to see. No doubt they were looking at the little fighter traveling many times the speed of sound 5, no 4, kilometers above them now. Headed right for that 20 spoked wheel of a prison. His onboard sensors detected two incoming Mankvim-814-V's headed towards him, an ever more increasingly popular fighter for the Separatist Volunteer Forces. They probably had neither the experience nor skill to take 3ER on in combat though. But they were atmospheric fighters, for the most part, and excelled at this altitude, with their rudders, flaps, and a mixture of ion and jet engines. The droid fighter had is attitude thrusters and ion engines, meant for the gravity-free space. He was much less maneuverable down here than up there.

"Unknown vessel, break off your decent and return to orbit, or you will be fired upon. Repeat, break off decent and return to orbit, or you will be fired upon." Said that voice again. The 814-V's were enclosing fast. They'd be in firing range any second. 3ER was now at 2,000 meters, it would be a miracle if everything went to plan now. Cell Block 12, Row Y. Which number? It was in the 12th spoke, in the 25th row, but where in that row? Didn't matter now. Red lasers shot past him, the organics were opening fire. DFS-3ER got a very foreboding feeling. The droid decided that it was all or nothing now, and dived at a 170-degree angle to the ground. This was risky, even compared to what he was trying to do. The organic's bodies would not tolerate such forces, and would not be able to follow him as fast. The droid was now at 1,000 meters, time to pull up. Flipping so that his engines pointed to the ground, he fired a sustained burst, and very nearly ripped himself apart at the change of inertia. Acceleration downwards stopped, but 3ER's fuel was a lot lower than it was supposed to be at this point. Only at several hundred meters over the prison, the droid decided to get a little lower and just drop out of the sky. Free fall in gravity was something he hadn't done before, at least at this altitude.

The fighter landed heavily on four wings-turned-limbs, and, for lack of a better word, spiked it's way across what appeared to be one of the prison's outdoor areas, to the place he wanted to be. Thankfully, organic prisoners were still asleep at this hour. They'd be up soon though. "What the hell?!" Came a shout from above. 3ER turned his head to see a guard in the watchtower, staring with a look of shock. Things just got more and more complicated.

Thinking fast, the small fighter shot into the air again, not going into flight mode, but a burst of thrusters to 'jump' over the building, in a sense. Scuttling through the yard, he made his way where Row Y should be, and smashed the wall with what would have been a wing in flight mode. Here was the moment of truth; could he find whom he was looking for? Nomar Thorae, a Sluissi, that narrowed it down to three freaked out individuals now, and had relatively light brownish skin, down to two, of course, and was missing one finger. There he was, right next to 3ER's left front wing, probably thinking this was some dream by the look on his face. It was a stroke of luck that he had happened to be here, a stroke probably not going to happen again this day. Now, and even bigger problem, how to get him out? 3ER had been incapable of writing, with no opposable digits, and no one to write it for him, so that had been out of the question. To be honest with himself, 3ER knew he had no way to tell Thorae what was happening, and how to get him out. Perfect. Just perfect. While only a second passed in the outside world, this all coursed through the machine's head in that time.

The Sluissi stared in shock (this all had to be very unreal), and 3ER stared right back. Then, the miracle 3ER wanted to happen did happen, and the sun came through the clouds, silhouetting the droid with a golden light. "My God…" Was all the Sluissi could say. 3ER took the initiative and extended one of his wings to the man below. Standing there, reaching out, the golden sun behind him, the droid figured he looked like an angle, albeit in a strange form. The Sluissi took it, holding on for his life as the droid lifted off into the air. Once out of the sun, Mr. Thorae seemed to realize he was holding onto a Vulture droid's wing. A dawning shock came across his face. "What. The. Hell." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. 3ER looked at him, then looked to see the prison guards firing up their defense guns. The droid attempted to gesture with his head for the man to hold on tighter (3ER was only flying at 20 kilometers an hour, dangerously low speeds for a space fighter), but he didn't. So 3ER opened up his engines a little more; maybe that would entice him to hold on more to his precarious position. And it did. DFS-3ER sped off towards the mountains, leaving the terrified Sluissi to wrap himself around 3ER's wing and hold on for dear life.

-Commander's Quarters, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, hyperspace-

The illustrious General Grievous reclined back in his favorite chair, once again, and once again laying his feet on Nute Gunray's table. To Kalee he went, to catch up with his people after all these years. Hopefully they would still be accepting of him, after all that had changed. Hopefully. But things seemed to be going his way lately, unlike earlier in the war with that Skywalker and his stupid padawan Ahsoka (he still reveled over her death by his hands) stopping him at every turn. Not anymore though. His thoughts were disturbed by a battle droid on the com. "Sir, we're approaching Kalee…"

The General leapt to his metal talons and quickly stalked out of the room. "Good, how much longer?" He asked once on the bridge, only a short distance away from his quarters.

"Not two minutes, sir." Said a pilot droid. Grievous began pacing on top of the red glowing bridge again. So much he wanted to say. What had happened to them, what had happened to them, how his children were doing, how his wives were doing, how he was doing, tales of the war and what was going on at home all this time… Grievous couldn't wait. His nervousness was gone, replaced by the fact that he still had people to care for. The cyborg congratulated himself on how far he had come these past few days. From a bloodthirsty killer on the Invisible Hand to a man who just wanted to see his family on his home world. A great change, and for the better. The ship's proximity alert went off, and the swirling blue vortex of hyperspace vanished, the stars slowed down, and Kalee was below them. Before any droid could say anything, Grievous was gone; down the turbolift and to the hangars, running all the way. Talons pounded on metal as the caped cyborg rushed through the great battleship, until the gaping hangar was before him. His trusty old star fighter sat there as always, looking tough next to the flexible and delicate Vulture droids docking on the ceiling racks. This was it. This was really it. The general leapt into the cockpit, and shot out of the hangar, away from the massive cruiser, to the brown, green, and blue planet below. The void of space shot by quickly, and soon, the orange glow of re-entry surrounded him. With a lurch if turbulence, Grievous was flying smoothly through the air, down to where he had once lived. Trees, plains, hills, more trees, then he touched down, landing skids bumping down on the strangely flat soil. No plants grew, this ground had been greatly disturbed recently. Well, someone had to have seen his fighter land.

His golden eyes scanned the forest around him. This clearing was conveniently just the size of his fighter, Grievous couldn't see far into the thick jungle around him. He did what he always did though, pressed on in the right direction. The cyborg was unnatural here, something so artificial amongst all the natural things. Metal talons shredded through undergrowth with ease, bypassing obstacles ordinary people would find challenging. He finally came upon a farm, one he recognized from oh so long ago. No doubt the inhabitant would be terrified of Grievous, so he snuck around, following a path to what should be the main road. Wildlife was all around. He hadn't heard any animal noise since Utapau, and even there, it was scarce. After an hour or so of quick walking, metal body and fine cloak out of place in the rural environment he was in, Grievous caught sight of a village. His village, before the crash. It looked oddly empty for the time of day. Maybe they knew he was coming, and not knowing what he was, they were hiding. The Huk Wars were still fresh for them, and the planet was just recovering from the Republic's starving of the world. The general reached the center of the small settlement, all the familiar buildings around him. For a second, he was no longer General Grievous, leader of the Confederacy, but just a man in a state of wonder. He had never thought he would look at this place again. But here it was. And it's desertion was very strange. "Hello?" He asked, voice disturbing the eerie silence. "Is anyone here?" Silence. Then, a slight noise from behind one of the houses. The cyborg went to inspect. Nothing. Just a bird picking through a pile of meat. This was the local butcher's home, that was apparent.

Then, he noticed something most odd. A dark singe surrounding a perfectly round hole in the house. There were more. Grievous rushed to another, more holes. Only blasters made that kind of damage. That, and the emptiness… No. He didn't accept it. He went into what had been a home of one of his guards, in the wars against the Huk. It was empty of people, but everything was disturbed, there were signs of a struggle, more blaster marks. There was food on the table, only starting to go bad. This had been recent. Just a few days had passed. Grievous began looking for tracks, anything that would lead him somewhere. He searched the whole village, looking over everything. Finally, he saw something; the underbrush in the jungle nearby was disturbed, greatly so. The general followed the disturbed plants, for at least two miles; never encountering anything more conclusive, until he reached a clearing similar to the one he had landed his fighter in. Very similar. Right down to the plant-less ground, that had the look that it had been placed there, and then flattened out. Grievous looked around for clues, but found nothing. After an hour of confusion, something disturbed Grievous from his search. A clearing of a throat. The general whipped around, lightsabers in both hands, though inactivated. The newcomer was an old Kaleesh though, weary and haunted looking. "So, you've returned, Qymaen." He said. Grievous narrowed his eyes as he put away his weapons.

"That is not my name." He said sternly. The old Kaleesh shook his head.

"You still insist on Grievous then. Grievous, leader of the droid armies of the Separatists. What has it gotten you?" The old man looked at the clearing and shook his head, sadly.

"It's gotten me a chance to do some good for the galaxy, that's what." The cyborg replied.

"And what has it gotten us, but this?" The Kaleesh pointed at the ground below them.

"I do not understand." Grievous stated, confused. "Do you want me to dig down to find something?" He asked, more out of annoyance than anything.

"You might not like what you find down there, though." The general turned to the old man.

"What are you saying, man?" Grievous asked with suspicion.

"Put it together, Grievous. You saw those blaster marks in my- our, village. Maybe you saw signs of a fight." He said slowly. Grievous wasn't sure he wanted to put those pieces together. Freshly disturbed and flattened dirt, the recent signs of struggle, blaster marks. "Maybe this will help you." The other said suddenly, tossing an object to the general. It was a DC-17 blaster pistol. The same type the Republic used. Republic weapon… Put it together with the blaster marks, the lack of people…

"No." Was all he said.

"I'm sorry to say it, but yes…" The old man replied quietly. "They're gone. All of them. Not two days ago, right before they pulled out." Grievous felt oddly empty. "After the killing was complete, they took the bodies here. Buried them right where we were standing, and in other areas as well."

"Why?" The cyborg simply asked.

"The Jedi general. Mentioned that you killed his padawan, so he decided the best way to hurt you back was destroy your home, I guess. Dangerous one, closer to their dark side of the force than anything. Clones didn't question it, they just did it." The man explained, looking wearily at the ground before the two.

"The Jedi…" Grievous growled. Destroying his world's well being was one thing, destroying his very home and family, that was another. "How many others did they kill?"

"I'm not sure… I only saw them opening fire on the village, and I ran back to the forest." A metal talon dug into the compacted dirt.

"Which Jedi?" The general questioned, trying his best to remain calm.

"I have no idea." The man shrugged in response. "Just another Human… They all look the same…" He sighed.

"This is one step too far." Grievous turned back toward his fighter. "If you ever find out which Jedi, contact me." With that, the CIS Head of State vanished into the thick undergrowth, the very image of calm and reservation. All the hate and rage threatened to brake out, but Grievous forced it down. Best to keep it pent up until he found this murderer. Then again, many would call he himself a murderer as well. Grievous certainly wasn't innocent. Was he? Was he still accountable for his actions despite being under the influence of a tampered mind, though he didn't know it? He pushed the question from thought. The journey back to his fighter was silent, uneventful. As he took off back into space, the weight of the knowledge that his family, friends, and everyone else he knew in his old life were dead finally hit him to it's fullest. Rage, hate, despair, sorrow, they all mixed into one volatile concoction.

As the fighter touched down onto the hangar bay, the general leapt out of the cockpit and was already headed out by the time any other droid could react. Through the long hallways, a brief right on the interior rail system, and more halls and turbolifts, then it was the bridge. The droids looked at him. "Take us back to base." He ordered, and swiftly retired to his quarters nearby. Sitting down in his favorite chair, he took one deep breath, not out of necessity, as he no longer needed to breath, but in a calming manner. His mechanical body trembled slightly, something he didn't know he could do, his clawed hands dug into armrests. It wasn't fair. Over 3 years of fighting a war he just now understood, surviving all of it and worse, only to come home, but home was destroyed? Too far. One step too far. Grievous didn't need a chip in his head to enhance his rage now; his brain was doing it on his own. Woe upon any Jedi that got in his way now. It got worse than that, though. He hadn't even tried to make contact with them the whole war. And now, when he did, they were all dead. Grievous closed his eyes for a moment. He shut away all feeling, concentrating on only the darkness he saw. When he opened his eyes, he was completely at ease. At least for the moment. The general broke out the latest reports on the war, and began planning the new offensive to break the Outer Rim Sieges. Plans were always a good distraction from things. Until he got back to NCY-1-U, he could deal with these emotions the way he was best at dealing with emotions: Ignoring them.

**Author's other note: **I'm not good at writing emotions, not normally, so sorry if this seems a bit odd. Next chapter already looks better.


	12. Chapter 12: Grievous's Plan

-Conference Room A, Main Facility, NCY-1-U, one light year off the Galactic Edge-

"He has been gone nearly a full week now, it's time we actually get something done around here for once!" Wat Tambor said loudly, as he slammed a fist into the table. "If Grievous is going to fly around the Galaxy, so be it. It's been over two weeks since old Palpatine died, and only four planets have broken the Republic's sieges! We need a plan!"

"I agree. But neither your last military adventure ended in disaster, did it not?" San Hill prodded.

"It's been years since Ryloth, I learned from my mistakes. And you yourself have been in Republic captivity, have you not?" The Techno Union's Foreman referenced Muunilist, which still had yet to be liberated.

"At least I knocked a clone abomination unconscious once, that's more than any of you can say." Viceroy Gunray added.

"You tell 'em!" Rune Haako urged on.

"_At least I've never been stupid enough to get myself captured…_" Shu Mai muttered in Gossam.

"I know how you feel…" Sighed Passel Argente. Poggle the Lesser just had his face in his palm. Po Nudo was leaning back in his chair reading something, ignoring the chaos that was developing. Tikkes, the Quarren, was outright sleeping. "You guys, we really shouldn't be fighting right now…" Argente said, but was ignored.

"Look, we should really do something for once! We have all these ships, why don't we go attack the Republic on Skako or something?" Wat Tambor yelled again.

"Of course you'd want to go to Skako, it's your home. And just for that, I'm going to say we go free Nemoidia and it's associated worlds." Gunray replied.

"I say we go to Muunilist. It'd definitely get our economy up!" San Hill suggested.

"_My planet is still in my control. I say we wait for the General, while you idiots argue._" Shu Mai said. Passel Argent nodded in agreement.

"A good suggestion. In fact, the first good one I've heard all day." He agreed.

"You should really start forming your own opinions for once…" Denaria Kee, his aid, told him.

"I do too have my own opinions! But I'm the only one here who realizes that we should sometimes back down and take someone else's side, or else we'll never get anything done." Argente replied. A loud snore form Tikkes suddenly caused everyone to stop talking for a moment.

"That fool is asleep!" San Hill observed, pointing out the obvious.

"Oh really, I hadn't noticed." Gunray snapped.

"No need to be rude…" The Banking Clan's leader started.

"Shut up, Hill. Leave the business to the big boys, okay?" Tambor growled.

"Hey, I have every right to be here!" The yelling brought a word from Poggle the Lesser.

"_Here we go again…_" He sighed in Geonosian. Passel Argente, Shu Mai, and just about everyone else than the three arguing palmed their face in some manner. Tikkes kept on sleeping. The shouts escalated as Shu Mai found herself sucked into to the heated argument, Po Nudo going in with her to vouch for some peace and quiet. The Geonosian Archduke got up out of his chair and went out the door.

"I wonder where he's off too…" Argente commented.

"No idea." Kee replied. Minutes passed, and Poggle the Lesser returned. He took a seat and was the very image of a dignified leader.

"_If you're smart, you'd follow my example within 30 seconds._" He told Argente and Kee. The both sat straight up and kept quiet, as the others argued. Out of sympathy, Kee woke up Tikkes and gave him the same instructions. Right on the mark of 30 seconds, the doors whooshed open and in strode Grievous. Gunray, Tambor, Hill, Mai, and Nudo did not notice his presence. The others who were behaved held back smirks at the explosion that was sure to come. Grievous didn't like being ignored. Grievous drew a lightsaber. He activated it and brought it down in them middle of the shouting mass, stabbing through the table.

"SILENCE!" He roared. The room went absolutely silent. The Separatist Councillooked up fearfully at him. The cyborg's eyes swept over them all, glaring and angry. "What the hell is going on?" He growled. Poggle the Lesser took the initiative.

"_These idiots had an argument which devolved into a shouting match, trying to decide what to do. I left and attempted contacted you, and I discovered you were already on the station. I came back here, and told the only people who were acting like grown adults and not squabbling children that you were coming. Those not involved were Argente, Tikkes, various aides, and myself._" The insectoid said.

"It was wise to act your age. The rest of you I will deal with in due time. I have been gone for six days as you know, and now I'm back." The general began.

"Where were you?" Asked Gunray. Passel Argente shook his head, no one should interrupt Grievous.

"Kalee. Now-"

"Did you find anything?" San Hill questioned, unwisely interrupting Grievous again.

"Yes, now shut up and listen! It's time to break the Outer Rim Sieges; I have devised a plan-" The cyborg was interrupted yet again.

"_Well, will you tell use what you found?_" Shu Mai asked. Grievous shuddered, a mix of sorrow and hate in his eyes.

"I never once contacted my family in the years before this. I went in person to make up for it. But they were all dead, as was everyone else I knew. Do you know how that feels? You deliberately ignore the only people you can really trust for years, and when you finally go to them, they're all not two days dead?" Grievous said, voice slightly trembling. The Council was at a loss for words. First, they didn't know he had any family left, or a desire to be with them, and second, they have never seen him display this much emotion other than rage before. It wasn't much for the average person, but it was a lot coming from the normally cold Grievous. "And now I come back here, and you're arguing and interrupting me. Do you know how much crap I have to put up with from everyone, not only you? I've got droids barely deserving of the name, I've got officers who don't know what they're doing or going off and getting sick, I have the entire Republic trying to kill me and who've already killed everyone I cared about, the weight of the whole Confederacy rests on me, and on top of it, I have you idiots to deal with, who won't even let me finished a sentence?" The cyborg made a noise in between a growl and a sigh. The whole room expected him to break out his weapons and kill them all. But instead he spoke again. "You know what, I'm done trying here." With that, he walked back out of the room. Silence dominated the room. Gunray finally spoke up.

"Someone's gotta say something." In a rare fit of courage, he went after Grievous.

"I never knew he had it in him…" San Hill said quietly. Wat Tambor looked down the hall.

"Strange… Grievous has emotions besides hate…" The Foremen remarked.

"I've tried to tell you all it before, I don't see why you're surprised now." Argente announced. Everyone looked at him. "I'm just saying… Well, the question now is, who is going to go stop Gunray from certain suicide?" No volunteers.

-Hallway F, Deck 2, NCY-1-U, one light year from the Galactic Edge-

Grievous stalked down the long corridor, feeling a little more at ease now that he had in some way dealt with those fools in the council. Still, the discovery on Kalee, no matter how short of a time he had been there, it hurt. His enhanced hearing picked up movement from behind him. The General turned and saw Nute Gunray, one of his worst enemies that wasn't a Jedi. He waited for the Nemoidian to get to him.

"General, General!" He said quickly, closing the distance between him.

"What?" Grievous growled in response.

"I'd just like to say, we're all very sorry for your loss, no matter how cliché is sounds." The Viceroy told him. "Furthermore, it seems to have become just how clear it is now that you're the leader of everything, and Dooku isn't just away on some mission. I guess it has taken time to set in… So from now one, you're not going to get as much trouble from us. From me, least of all."

"Good." The General simply replied.

"And because I'm officially second in command of the CIS now, I don't think we can afford to let our personal conflicts get in the way of things. We've been at odds from the start, perhaps it's time to put that behind us." Gunray extended a hand. Grievous shook it briefly.

"Agreed. If you excuse me, I have important things to attend to. Deal with the council." Gunray went back down the hall. The cyborg watched him for a moment, than continued on his way. If the Nemoidian held true to his word, than Grievous's life would be much easier. Well, not much easier, but easier enough to take some of the load off. But there was one thing General Grievous didn't get rid of easily, and that was anger. And what better way to take out that anger on an enemy of the state, one of the kind of who started this, no less? Shaak Ti was still in her cell, right where Grievous had left her. Perfect.

Darkness turned to burning light as the cell door opened. The Togruta Jedi had one bit of hope for a moment that she was being released from some surreal dream, but that died the moment a very familiar figure stepped into the light. "Shaak Ti. You have somehow managed to avoid death by my hand three times now." Said the dreaded Grievous emptily.

"And what is that to you?" She asked, wary of this unsuiting behavior from the normally angered cyborg.

"I do not know, and it does not interest me at this moment. I am here to tell you something: I am very angry." Replied Grievous, still holding his cool.

"Tell me something new." Said she. The general tilted his head, and bent down to her eye level.

"You killed my family." Came his simple answer. Shaak Ti had to admit; she did not see that coming. Grievous cared for people? That didn't make sense.

"It's not like you bothered to see them, why would you care-" A cold fist struck her down to the floor.

"Say that again." Grievous ordered coldly. Now the Jedi was more than confused, and in a bit of pain. But out of spite, she said what he didn't want her to say, though he was good at hiding that.

"Why would you care about your family?" This was met by what felt like a hard kick, though she knew he was capable of more. The cyborg's eyes seemed to burn in hate.

"Do you care about your family?" Asked he.

"I never knew my family." Shaak Ti said back.

"And what if you did?"

"Then I assume I would…" Answered the Jedi back; curious to see where this would go.

"And what if you had been horribly maimed in a plot to keep you from being any major threat to the Republic?" Grievous began. "What if you had been offered a second chance to fight for your people? What if your mind was tampered with without you knowing until years after the fact? What if you were prevented from thinking beyond the most basic thought about your home, and when you were finally free, everyone you cared about in your old life was dead?" Ranted the general. Shaak Ti wisely stayed silent. This was the monster that was responsible for the deaths of billions; she should feel nothing for him, technically it. But the fact that Grievous had just let slip that his mind had been tampered with changed that. Did it? Every report of Grievous described him as full of rage and anger, sometimes with the tendency to gloat. He was certainly wrathful now, but this was different from blind hate. This was something almost… natural. If his mind was not under his full control, then what did that say about his war record?

"When did you find out that you were tampered with?" She asked.

"Shortly after I had ridden the galaxy of that scumbag Skywalker, and Kenobi." Snapped the cyborg. "My head was damaged, my doctor found the chips. What does that matter to you, Jedi? Don't you have peace to 'defend'?" If there was one thing not changed about Grievous, it was his hate for Jedi.

"You left out your murder of Chancellor Palpatine." Added Shaak.

"_Palpatine_? You must mean Darth Sidious." Suddenly, the cyborg seemed amused at the Jedi's confusion. "You mean you didn't know the truth? Hah! The Jedi have been serving the greatest of the Sith lords in centuries, and they didn't even know it!" There was the gloating, Shaak noted from somewhere. She didn't believe the cyborg. "Fools, all of you! Dooku told me himself, on his deathbed. Sidious played this whole war like a game, all to create a new empire out of the Republic once it won, and the Jedi were killed by their own clones in Executive Order 66."

"What are you talking about?" Asked she faintly.

"Didn't know about that either? Idiots! The whole war was a set-up for Sidious's empire. It was a game, and all of us were pawns. I was supposed to die over a week ago. You would be dead too. But it was never a game for those people out there!" Grievous pointed towards the direction Shaak Ti could only assume the galaxy was in. It was odd, seeing him so riled about ideals and politics. "Your Republic has failed! Years of stagnation and corruption, all amounting to one final straw, for each system that seceded!"

"Not all systems joined you because they hated the Republic, you even conquered many, personally, too." Noted the Jedi, still taking in this new turn of events.

"But why did tens of thousands leave before the war started?" Asked the cyborg. "Millions of planets left for a better future. Not just for those who could benefit the Republic, but any who wanted that better future. A better future for _everyone_!" Grievous exclaimed, echoing the words Count Dooku had told him, not two weeks ago. "This was never a game to him, you know. Dooku believed in what we were doing, and he knew Sidious would betray him. I don't know why he didn't act, but if I hadn't made that single decision to go to that tower, I would be dead. The Confederacy would be dead. You would be dead. The Jedi would be dead. The Republic would be dead. And in it's place, the oppression that your precious Palpatine would bring under his empire!" Ranted Grievous. Shaak Ti had never seen nor heard of the cyborg being so passionate about something. Maybe he really wasn't under his own total control over the last three years. This was the noble Kaleesh warrior that she had learned once was Grievous, in the secret Council briefings. The constantly enraged madman was not this cyborg. Grievous had lost everything that meant anything to him at the hands of the Republic, he was a nigh-unstoppable warrior, and now believed that what he was doing was for the good of the galaxy. That made him all the more dangerous.

"So, General, what is your point in being here?" She asked.

"You have a choice Shaak Ti, see the truth, or remain in here. That choice is yours." He replied.

"I will need time to think on what you've said." In truth, Shaak was very sure she'd rather languish in a cell than be working with Grievous.

"Very well." The cyborg left the cell. "I do hope you do the right thing. Even a Jedi can be redeemed…"

Grievous strode out of the cell, feeling slightly better. At least he had gotten some anger out. Now that he was done with the Jedi for the day, he could begin formulating his next move against the Republic. Most of the Outer Rim Sieges still held, even with the attack on Coruscant. But, that was precisely what this fleet was meant for. Grievous didn't know much about the Ultimate Weapon, he only knew Dooku was building _something_, but it had been a mystery. Now, the Ultimate Weapon was on schedule for seven years, and the rest of the new Confederate armada was almost ready itself. These ships would be used to break the sieges in the Outer Rim, and chase the Republic back into the central regions. That is, if everything went well. War had taught Grievous that things seldom went well for him, but it was mostly due to Kenobi, Skywalker, Tano, and a few other assorted Jedi. Now that they were out of the picture, perhaps spontaneous overcoming of impossible odds would no longer occur for the republic.

The general wandered the halls, thinking over many strategies on how to beat the Republic. If he didn't strike soon, they'd recover, though not under the same strength and unity Palpatine had. So, he had to strike, but where? Hours dragged by as Grievous thought to himself. Eventually, he did come up with a plan. The general was off to the war room.

-Sluis Van, unnamed mountain, 72 kilometers from Alkeir Prison-

DFS-3ER stood under a rock outcrop, watching the Sluissi he rescued move back and forth. "I just don't get it!" Nomar Thorae ranted. "I'm in jail for something I don't remember doing, a damn droid breaks _in_, and then flies me out to these damn mountains I don't even know the name of! I don't get it!" He could have at least been grateful for it, the Vulture droid thought. If only there was some way to communicate. "Where are we anyways? Oh, that's right, you can't speak." 3ER shook his head, and began walking east. Thorae followed him. "Well, I guess you know where you're going. I got nothing better to do than follow… Why aren't you flying, anyway?" The droid turned and looked at him, then at the sky. "No fuel?" 3ER nodded. "You must have used it all getting away from those other fighters…" The droid nodded again

"I must hand it to you, you're quite the flyer. And I think I deserve credit for not falling off or puking all over your wing… spike… blade… Whatever those things are." The Sluissi pointed to 3ER's legs. For a third time, the droid nodded. 3ER was beginning to doubt the feasibility of this plan. Thorae didn't even remember why he was in jail. Officially, it had been for disrupting the peace, but it had been for protesting the use of droids as weapons. Seeing as it happened during the sieges, it wasn't much of a surprise he had been put in jail, the planet had been starving until recently, and jails weren't places for free food. Not on this planet. "Anyways, it seems were both fugitives from the law, me for something I don't recall, and you… I don't know about you, but to have a droid on the run, that must be significant some how." Oh, and how significant it was. "You better be going somewhere, because I'm hungry." Foolish organics and their strange ways of energy intake. Batteries were so much more superior to consuming nutrients of other living things. After an hour of walking, the two came upon a stone road. A sign pointed the way to a place named Syrn. That was a good way to go. "Syrn, eh? I had a friend who lived there. Maybe he can help us, if that's still his location." Help was good too. They could certainly use some help.

-War Room A, Deck 1, NCY-1-U, one light year from the Galactic Edge-

Grievous stared at the map of galaxy as it was as of two hours ago, assigning fleet movements and plotting out probable Republic moves. He had ordered the commanders of this facility to the war room, but they hadn't arrived yet. As he was contemplating the Felucia problem, one of the Separatist Council members came in. San Hill, the InterGalactic Banking Clan executive. "What?" Growled Grievous, not looking up from the holomap.

"Good afternoon, general." The Muun said.

"You want to know if I have intentions to liberate your home world." Grievous stated.

"Uh, yes, that would be nice." Replied Hill.

"As a matter of fact, Muunilist is on the priority list, along with Geonosis. We're retaking the outer rim, Mr. Hill, fortunately for you; your world happens to be among those we need to take. The Confederacy doesn't run on only patriotism, sadly. We need a source of money." Grievous said. Hill looked overjoyed.

"It's about time someone other than my fellow council members admits that! I'll lead the assault my self!" San Hill exclaimed. Grievous gave him an annoyed look.

"Last time anyone on that council tried to take a planet, it ended in disaster and the capture of that council member. We both know who I'm talking about."

"Yes, but I'm not a fool like Tambor!" Hill protested.

"Yet, you got yourself captured as well when Muunilist was taken…" The general replied calmly. "No, I think someone with actual successful military experience will lead this attack. Perhaps me. Lord Jerithox will go after Geonosis himself. You will stay here and not get captured. Do you understand?" The cyborg asked. The Muun reluctantly nodded. "Good. Now, leave me to my work, go do whatever useless thing it is you do."

"You mean manage the economics of this government?" Asked Hill.

"Yes. Now leave until the others arrive." Grievous pointed at the door. San Hill walked out, but was quickly replaced by that battle droid, OOM-27.

"Good afternoon, sir." Said the droid.

"Finally, a competent strategist." Remarked Grievous.

"Why, thank you, sir. Just a few weeks ago, you would have been calling me out on my supposed short comings as a droid." Replied OOM-27.

"You've proven your worth. Are the others coming?" Asked he.

"Roger- Roger." The droid had tried to stop from saying it's programmed response, but had obviously failed. "If only there was a way to remove that line from our programming."

"I don't mind it. It stops me from taking most of your abilities seriously, thus allowing your failures to be expected, instead of an unpleasant surprise." The cyborg said. OOM-451 walked in, accompanying Lord Jerithox. "Finally." Commented Grievous. Various other commanders walked in, along with the Separatist Council members, and took places around the table. "Now that you're all here, let's begin." The map reverted from Grievous's plans to the galaxy as it was. Red marked Republic territory, and blue marked the Confederacy's territory. There was a lot more red than blue. "As you all know, we were winning this war not a year ago. We had our foot on the Republic's throat, and before we could step down and crush it forever, I received the order to pull back to the Outer Rim. Why? To entangle the Republic so much out here that we could strike Coruscant and capture the Chancellor. I must say, the plan worked perfectly. However, I assumed the Sieges would break after I killed Palpatine, not to mention Kenobi and Skywalker. This obviously did not happen.

"But now, I have a plan. The fleet we've been building here is meant to break these Sieges, and I'll have you know that there are several other facilities like this out there, though not complete. Also, we have the Ultimate Weapon." Grievous gestured at the spherical frame out the window. "And now we've captured the Republic's super weapon, not to mention, captured an influential Jedi and killed two more. I know many of you have your doubts about me as a political leader as well as a military leader. Make no mistake; I am not the same man I was even a month ago. Certain events have changed me, as well as this new role of leadership. I will lead us to victory, and I will hold this Confederacy together to see that everyone has a better future in this galaxy." The cyborg looked around, making eye contact with all of them. "And now, the plan." Markers representing substantial CIS fleets appeared on the map. Grievous pointed to the largest of them, located just off the galactic edge. "This is us. We're going to strike as one group. Together here, we have the same amount of ships as only a few of our besieged worlds put together, splitting up will do no good. You see, I intend to employ the same strategy I used to strike Coruscant, though with a few changes.

"We're going to attack various Inner Rim and Core Worlds, draw as much Republic ships as we can back to the heart of the Republic. This will give many of our less important Outer Rim worlds a good chance to break their sieges, and support our more heavily attacked ones. Simple, yes?" The assorted generals and admirals nodded. "Only for the first stage. After we lure the Republic back to the core, we're going to attack the Middle Rim and Colonies, while simultaneously striking the fleets hold worlds such as Muunilist and Geonosis, and not to mention, the besiegers too. We'll give the Republic total war on all fronts, at all times, and never give them time to stop chasing us from system to system, all across the galaxy. I don't know how long this will go on, but I know once those sieges break, that'll free up many of ours ships. I know that we have more ships than them, and we can produce more droids than they can produce clones.

"This brings up my next point: The droids. For the past few years, I have reached the breaking point with the stupidity and incompetence of our soldiers. I am implementing a program that will require the Techno Union, Trade Federation, Corporate Alliance, Commerce Guilds, InterGalactic Banking Clan, and every other droid producing company under our command to heighten the intelligence levels in our droids. Smart soldiers that can be mass-produced will be our key to victory. It has been said that it takes a thousand droids to beat a Jedi. I want that down to one by the time the Ultimate Weapon is completed. I don't care if you have to design a droid that costs more than a _Subjugator_, I want it done." Grievous pointed at the Council members, who looked shocked at such expenses Grievous was asking them to pay.

"Onto the Ultimate Weapon." He continued. "That battle station out there is our key to eventual victory. The late Count Dooku ordered it to be fitted with a super laser, a weapon capable of destroying entire planets." Various gasps and grumbles came from the assorted military leaders. "Whether it works or not is not a problem, as long as the Republic think we can destroy planets, that is good. It'll be more of an intimidation tool than an actual weapon, though I will use it if I must. I think it would be better for all of us is one space station can scare a world into submission than having a costly battle that does billions in damages." The Council nodded.

"Now, some of you may know that this last week has been rather… difficult for me." Grievous specifically looked at the Council. "I'm going to share with you some rather personal information. My family is dead, at the hands of the Republic. Before this, I was merely a warrior and a general who happened to be fighting for the Separatists. Dooku's death started something in me, that there was something more to this war than just killing. My family's death ignited that into my goal: The Republic will fall. I do not care how, but it will, by my hand." Grievous shook his fist for emphasis. "And this Confederacy, you in this room, the people out over thousands of worlds who battle each day, the millions more under the oppression of the Republic, the droids on the land and in the skies, everything and everyone with me, that is my weapon. Together, we will have victory. I've done many terrible things in this war, and it does not matter whether I was in full control of myself or not, I still did them." The assembled leaders looked confused. Others thought to such events as the bombardment of Humbarine, a planet of hundreds of billions. "Some of those things cannot be forgiven, but I intend to make up for that every way I can. There is a better future awaiting this galaxy, and I will lead us there, even if that road brings me to my death as well. Some of you don't believe in what you are doing, you're only in it for the money, or the power. I ask of you, open your eyes, see the real plight of this galaxy. Wealth, glory, money, power, it doesn't matter, compared to what we can do for everyone. Take this as a load of propaganda if you will, but I know we can do so much more than what we're already doing. Thank you for your time, you will receive your orders within an hour. Good night." Grievous turned away from the table, cloak flowing behind him, and walked through a door into his personal quarters. The cyborg collapsed into his favorite chair, taking a claming breath. That whole speech had been completely spontaneous. The door rang. "Come in…" He sighed. It was the Jedi, Esera Corin.

"Nice speech, sir." She said.

"Thank you… What is your purpose in being here?" Asked Grievous.

"I'd just like to note on your incredible change in personality." The general nodded.

"I feel more and more like my old self every day. I used to give speeches to my men, in the Huk War. I've never given one like that, before."

"Maybe you should consider giving it to the people. On a broadcasted message, to boost moral. There are many who doubted your abilities in that room, I could sense it, until you started that speech of yours. Hell, even _Nute Gunray_ looked inspired at the end, if only a little bit. That's impressive." The Jedi spoke.

"I'll take your words into consideration. Now, I believe we both have work to do." Grievous responded.

"Yes, we do. Where am I attacking?" Corin asked.

"You'll be bringing your ship with me and Jerithox. We're going raiding in the Core Worlds."

Author's note: Well, that's another really long gap in chapters from me. I hope someone out there is still reading this. Anyways, now the war is just getting started, now that the situation is out of the way. And with the next Clone Wars episode featuring Grievous, whatever pathetic failure they make him do will get me riled up to my old pace in updates, hopefully. School is a factor I still haven't accounted for, though it plays a major part… Anyways, reviews=motivation. If you want more, all you need to do is say so, and more will come faster. And like I've said: I don't die, I just go inactive. This story will be finished, even if it takes me the next two years to do.


	13. Chapter 13: Raiding, Part 1

**Stuff: Star Wars is copyright to George Lucas, boring legal stuff, boring legal stuff… Just to remind any would-be lawyer I know my place.**

-Main Bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser-

Grievous watched the _Serenno_ and _Independence_ off to the left and right of the _Cataclysm_, respectively. Esera Corin and Lord Jerithox were standing in front of the general as holograms, atop the raised platform in the middle of _Cataclysm_'s bridge. "Now, you understand what we are doing, correct?" Asked he. The two nodded. "You understand we will be simply raiding, and not engaging in heavy battle?" They nodded again. "Good. You will follow each order I give you; I assure you I know that I'm doing. This isn't my first time raiding."

"Yes sir." They both replied.

"Set your coordinates for Kuat." The two exchanged glances, before Jerithox spoke.

"Kuat, sir?" He asked. Grievous rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Kuat, you fool. We have three of the most powerful warships in the galaxy right here, we're going to disable as much of Kuat in the smallest amount of time we can. The less ships they can produce in the next year or two, the better. Now, set your coordinates, we're leaving." The cyborg ordered. The holograms shut off, and all three massive ships began turning core-ward.

"The coordinates are set, general." Said OOM-451. Grievous nodded.

"Engage." He said, pointing out of the bridge. The stars warped backwards into streaks of light, and the _Cataclysm _shot forth into a swirling blue vortex, swiftly followed by _Serenno_ and _Independence_. The general sat down in his chair, leaned back, and waited.

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

"Oh, the woes of boredom…" Admiral Dreon Kronak sighed. His bridge had been repaired since his mission to Wrileth, but everything else was still under repair. No longer could he see the hangar through holes in the hull, but it definitely was far from fixed.

"Uh, sir?" Prompted a pilot droid.

"Yes?"

"We've lost one of our fighters, it's attacked a prison complex on the surface." It said.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Kronak replied.

"No, sir, it's attacked a prison. Abducted a political prisoner as well." The pilot droid explained.

"It's a problem, just not my problem." The Vesila admiral said, looking out the window. "Tell the surface forces to take care of it."

"Roger roger."

-Jedi High Council chambers, Jedi Temple, Coruscant-

"…After that, Grievous broke down the door and charged into the room. Master Ti told me to escape, then stood to fight Grievous herself. She didn't meet us back at the ship, so we had no choice but to assume she was dead or captured." Aayla Secura finished her report of the battle on the Separatist facility against what was now the Republic's Public Enemy #1, the dreaded Separatist warlord: General Grievous.

"Thank you, Aayla, you are excused." Mace Windu said. She left the room, and the Jedi Council looked at each other.

"Powerful, Grievous has become." Noted Master Yoda.

"Not to mention, this new weapon they're building. That will be very dangerous." Ki Adi Mundi said.

"Obviously…" Replied Windu. "My question is, what exactly are they going to do now? It's obvious the Separatists have been building another fleet in secret, but I do not think it will last long under Grievous. He doesn't have the popularity Dooku had. All we need to do is wait until their victory here wears off, and the same old war weariness returns. We can outlast them. All that needs to be done is keep up the sieges."

"And what of that fleet that destroyed the task force we sent?" Asked Mundi.

"My guess is that he will divide it up to reinforce their Outer Rim holdings." Windu said.

"If Grievous had any brains at all, he wouldn't divide up that fleet, he'd strike one world at a time…" Agen Kolar said. "It's clear something has changed in him. When Fisto and his old padawan took on Grievous in his fortress, Grievous only killed the padawan through trickery, and Fisto got away without a scratch. Now he's killed or captured 3 council members, and Skywalker's apprentice, all the while taking on two more of our best Jedi. That's a great level of difference."

"Unpredictable, he is." Yoda noted. "Careful, we must be. But, end this war, a priority it is. Capture or kill Grievous, and the Separatist rebellion, come to an end, it will."

"But we have no idea where he is." Mundi replied.

"Then find him, we will."

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

The general had been thinking while idly staring out into the blue vortex. The defector had once mentioned she knew a freelance program that could work on the droid's intelligence. Perhaps it was time to bring that into play. Grievous sent a message to _Serenno_. Soon, Esera Corin appeared as a hologram. "What is it, sir?" She asked tiredly.

"Were you sleeping?" Grievous asked.

"Yes, general, I was…" Corin said.

"Too bad. Now, several weeks ago, nearly three, I'd say, you told me about a freelance programmer you knew." Stated the cyborg. "Where is it?"

"It would be a he, sir. A Vesila living on Scykor, last time I saw him, he was being rounded up to be sent to a… prison camp for aiding the enemy, which happens to be us now." She explained, looking off at one angle.

"You avert your eyes. There is something more you are not telling me." Grievous said suspiciously, leaning around to look her in the eyes. "I do not take kindly to secrets."

"Well then… I guess 'prison camp' implies something orderly. The real word would be a waiting area. Scykor was rich in minerals, which the Republic wanted. The people, who had allied with the CIS, basically said 'Screw you!' to the diplomatic mission sent to bring the planet back, and so they told my fleet to take care of it. We ended up bombarding it from orbit, then cleaning up any resistance left on the surface over the next few months. Whatever civilians were left, we deported to another planet, and just kind of left them there. Orders of the Chancellor, because Scykor was predominantly non-Human. It's obvious now that man was a speciest bigot who deserved what he got…" Grievous would have frowned if he could.

"And Jedi claim they have such high morals…" He noted.

"I wasn't proud of it either, but orders are orders, sir. You should know this from your days with the Banking Clan." Corin shot back.

"You got that from my files as well?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

"So, where is this planet you marooned them on?" Questioned Grievous. The Jedi though for a moment.

"It's between Charros IV and Boz Pity, more towards Boz Pity though." Corin answered. Grievous leaned back in his chair and thought.

"We'll stop there on our way back from our raiding. Kuat is only the first…" He said, looking into the blue of hyperspace. "If they thought the war was over, they're wrong. Dooku's war is over, yes, but my war is just starting." The Jedi nodded.

"And how is your war different, sir?"

"As cliché as this sounds, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain, Jedi." Corin frowned at him.

"You have the entire Confederacy and every dream, every hope, and every life of every person in it to lose, General. I advise you don't forget that." She said sternly. Grievous turned to her. As if to reinforce her point, Esera went on. "You're the only chance we're going to get for this. Unlike the Republic, our government is held together by one thing and one thing only: You. And if you're gone, who is going to keep us united? Viceroy Gunray? Chairman Hill? That Skakoan who fancies himself a commander? No sir, you're the only one." The general had to think for a moment.

"Esera, eventually, I intend to have the Confederacy hold itself together. If I can inspire a message in the very souls of these people, then if I die, they can go on." Grievous said. "That speech will come in handy."

"Well, that will take care of the politics. What about the war? The Republic is still cloning at the same rate they were before. It won't take long before their army can replace the losses we inflicted at Coruscant and the Sieges. If your plan works, that is." The cyborg had to keep his silence again.

"Jedi, as much as this pains me to admit, I think I need you." Corin gave him a funny look. "You're keeping me in line. That's more than anyone else can do." The Jedi then smiled.

"It's good that you admit that. Know your weaknesses general, so you can play your strengths even better."

"I like that. I might have to use it." Grievous told her.

"Give me credit, then."

-Main bridge, _Independence_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

Lord Jerithox looked out the window intently; all Kresor seemed to have a curiosity of space, he was no different. And now, he was out here, seeing it firsthand. That was a rare privilege, not even the Loron Virus could darken. It was even better he was fighting for a good cause in one of the most powerful ships in the galaxy, under the command under one of the greatest military commanders of his time, General Grievous. A great, influential person, he was, but terrible. Grievous was also perhaps the biggest mass-murderer of his time as well. OOM-27 stood at Jerithox's side, waiting for the order to emerge from hyperspace. It would be any minute now the raid on Kuat began. "So, sir, what are you looking at?" Asked the command droid.

"Just what's out there." Jerithox answered.

"And what's out there, sir?" Questioned the machine again.

"Everything." The Kresor replied. "Everything we know, everything that matters, everything that has been, is, and will be, it's all out there somewhere." He looked into the blue of hyperspace intently. "Somewhere beyond this veil we will soon depart from." A button chimed.

"Speaking of departing, it's time sir." Said OOM-27.

"Disengage hyperdrive." Commanded Lord Jerithox. The vortex fell away, and a planet rapidly slammed into view, ringed with shipyards and orbital factories. Kuat, powerhouse of the Republic war machine. Jerithox looked out to the right, and saw the _Serenno_, with _Cataclysm_ between them leading the way. He saw the Republic fleet in the distance, breaking of their patrols to form up against the new threat. "Battle stations!" Ordered Jerithox. Grievous's hologram appeared.

"Begin the first strike." He commanded sternly, failing to vanish from sight. Instead, the hologram ignored Jerithox and commanded his own ship while keeping the line open.

"Charge the plasma rotors!"

"Roger roger." Replied the droids. On all three _Subjugator_'s, the Ion Pulse Cannons began to glow with energy. After a minute of silence and apprehension, the order came to fire, just as the Republic Star Destroyer's opened up their batteries. The shields dispersed the hits easily.

"You can't mess with three _Subjugator_s…" Jerithox laughed to himself. "Fire!" He ordered, and the IPC let off a circle of energy, soaring through space and passing right through the Republic ships, disabling them of power, and rendering them useless.

"Begin the second strike." Ordered Grievous. "Engage the Republic ships only as we pass by, we do not have time to stay and destroy all of them." The Kresor nodded, and presumably that Jedi defector gave a sign of obedience as well on her ship.

"Set heading for Kuat, only fire on the hostile vessels as we pass, then prepare to fire on the shipyards." Said Jerithox.

"Roger roger." Came the expected response. OOM-27 was at the front of the bridge, overseeing gunnery operations. The three massive battleships boosted their engine and began to hurtle towards the planet ahead, spewing red bolts into the Republic ships as they passed. A few Star Destroyers were put permanently out of action, but most only were damaged as the Confederate vessels went by. Jerithox saw the IPC of _Cataclysm _already starting to power up, and thus, he followed the example. Coordinates came through on where to target the ring of industry. He was firing on the area responsible for the construction of the new _Imperator_-class Star Destroyers. Just after the Battle of Coruscant, the ships had started appearing. For a time, there was only one or two, then nearly two dozen had come out of nowhere. Perhaps knocking out this facility for a time would cut off production of these new ships, which were even tougher than the _Venator_s, which had earned the grudging respect of many Separatist officers.

"Fire." Ordered Jerithox. He watched the pulse of energy soar off to the ring of industry, passing through it and onto the planet below. It vanished beneath cloud cover. _Cataclysm_ and _Serenno_ fired as well, disabling vital areas of the shipyards. The battle of the day seemed over. Something seemed off. "That was too easy…"

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

"This is too easy!" Exclaimed Grievous, stalking around the bridge of his warship. The droids agreed, nodding and talking amongst themselves.

"Where are they?" Asked OOM-451. "That can't be the only defense ships they had…" The cyborg merely continued pacing around. Several flashes came from the planet below.

"What?" Grievous asked to himself. Recognition dawned on him as the small flares came towards his ships. "Missiles… Get us out of here!" The _Cataclysm_ turned about, along with the other two _Subjugator_s. Three series of jolts informed Grievous his flagship had been hit, though if any damage had been done remained to be seen.

"We're ready to go to hyperspace, sir!" Announced a pilot droid.

"Go then, you fool!" Grievous yelled back.

"Roger roger." _Cataclysm_ shot forward into space, and into the blue vortex.

"Get a damage report, I want to see what's gone wrong this time." Ordered the cyborg. After a few minutes of droid incompetence, the reports came back.

"We only have slight damaged to the aft armor, sir, the shields took most of it." One explained.

"Good. I bet it's safe to assume the Republic have alerted other worlds that three ships are out raiding. Prepare for more resistance from other worlds." Commanded Grievous. But the Republic would not stop him, they never had before. Not enough to seriously hurt him. A memory came up from the past, distorted by something dark and shadowy. A memory of a battle against a now-dead Jedi.

"_I hear a lot of talking, General, but in the final accounting, what does all the talk get you? A futile quest for power, a mutilated body, and a place as Dooku's errand boy? _

"_I'm no errand boy, I'm not in this war for Dooku's politics, I am the leader of the most powerful droid army this galaxy has ever seen!" _

"_An army with no loyalty, no spirit! Just programming. What do you have to show for your power, what have you to gain?" _

"_The future!" _

Oh, Grievous certainly had that future. But he was leader of more now. Not only the most powerful army in the galaxy, but that leader of the most powerful coalition of planets the galaxy had ever seen since the early days of the Galactic Republic. Not only droids were under his command, but people as well. From the smallest child, to the bravest volunteer soldier, they were his to lead. And lead them he would, to a glorious victory. To a future, a better future. This was his purpose. Now he was in it for Dooku's politics. Not Dooku's, his now. Grievous cringed. He'd have to negotiate now! The horrors… Ideas filled the once rage-prone cyborg's mind. The CIS had many under it's command, many who could be doing more. Perhaps it was time for a reformation. Dooku had lead the Separatist movement, but those who seceded were now under new command. What Dooku started Grievous would see to it's maturity, and eventually, to it's end. The Separatists brought up thoughts of rebels. This was no planetary rebellion, this was a galactic revolution. This was the Confederacy, a legitimate government, not some movement to secede. Dooku's Separatists were now Grievous's Confederates. And there was the new defining word. The Separatist Droid army and Separatist Volunteer Forces would be fused into one branch. This army would be divided into two sub-sections, the Droid Army and the Volunteer Army. Organic and droid would fight together, under one name: The Confederate Army. Luckily, the Confederate Navy was already in existence…

But there would need to be changes. The droids needed to be smarter, the ships needed to be upgraded. _Munificent_s and _Recusant_s were already inferior to _Venator_s, but they would be completely eclipsed by these new _Imperator_s. More weapons, more shields, more armor. Perhaps new fighters. Vulture droids simply weren't cutting it, and Tri-fighters were hard-pressed to deal with the increasingly veteran Clone pilots. Fighters capable of learning, like Grievous's Magnaguards. Take that a step further, perhaps, make them be able to download into new bodies upon death, making death but a learning experience. Yes… That would do nicely. Sentient fighters that never died permanently. Superior to anything else… Why not make the automated CIS ships like that as well?

Grievous was getting ahead of himself. It would be years before such technology became efficient enough for mass production. Hopefully, he had years. Hopefully. These next few months, and years, would be the defining moments of history. What Grievous did now would make or break the galaxy. The future was his. "Guess I'll have to be careful…" He said to himself.

"Excuse me, sir?" Questioned OOM-451.

"Never mind. Just continue on. Our next target awaits us." Replied the general.

Author's note: This has been done for some time, but my proofreader who said they'd proofread seems to have vanished of the face of the Earth, so… yea. Enjoy.


	14. Chapter 14: Raiding, Part 2

Author's note! Yes, I've been gone forever. Again. That's what, the third time? Well, a bunch of stupid things happened, like my immune system failing at life, and school, and procrastination… But here's another chapter. Let's hope I can stick to my promise to update more. I have a whole plan, but sitting down and writing it all out is another matter… Once again, I own nothing except what I make up that is obviously not from Star Wars!

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

"Corellia… One of the largest suppliers of the Republic's ships, am I correct?" Lord Jerithox asked via hologram. Grievous nodded.

"Indeed, you are right. This is our next target. Expect the defenses to have increased exponentially, they know we're here, and it's a good bet they know we're coming. Let us not disappoint them." The cyborg stated. "Our plan of attack will be simple. Each ship will approach from a different angle, appearing at different times, to confuse the defenders. Therefore, we should split up immediately."

"Yes sir." Answered Esera Corin and Lord Jerithox.

"I remember a time when such an order would confuse those under my command. You will not fail where others have. Corin, take your ship and attack the dark side of the planet. I will attack from our current trajectory. Lord Jerithox, attack the remaining third that is open. Does this make sense?" Asked Grievous.

"Yes sir." They answered again. With a simple command to the holoprojector, Grievous brought up the planet.

"Show me where you will be attacking." The two subordinates pointed to their designated attack areas. "Excellent. You are dismissed." Grievous sat down again. "How close are we to Corellia?" He asked.

"Two hours away, sir." Replied OOM-451.

"That is too long." Stated the general.

"I agree sir, but if we go any faster, we may damage the reactor." The droid answered.

"Then we wait."

-Sluis Van, Syrn township, 77 kilometers from Alkeir Prison-

DFS-3ER observed the small cluster of buildings. If it was a town, it wasn't much. "Here we are…" Said Nomar Thorae, gesturing at the scene before him. "Small, isn't it?" 3ER nodded slightly. His power level was going down rapidly, he needed to conserve energy. "Legally, a township is thirty-six square miles, here, and since Syrn occupies that, it's a township. But really, only the Syrn family lives, well, lived here." Miles was a Sluissi unit, 3ER wasn't totally familiar with it. "But now, only Ezan Syrn lives here now. Rest of the family died during the Siege from starvation. Luckily, I know Ezan. Maybe he can fix you up with some old vocabulator." The two moved on in silence towards the so-called township ahead. The Vulture droid wondered if his journey was to begin at such a humble place. But many great journeys had started in worse places than this. General Grievous's, for example. Then again, 3ER's quest had begun in battle, not here. It was really all up for debate. The droid was disappointed he had only traveled a short distance while thinking. Such was the curse of a mind that processed so fast. To pass time, 3ER stopped thinking, and put himself into a power saving mode. It was as if time sped up, things seemed almost faster. The droid knew it was just an illusion though, only his processing speed had slowed down. In what seemed no time at all, they reached the first building of the township.

"Welcome to Syrn." Said Thorae, looking triumphant.

"Indeed, welcome." Answered a new voice. 3ER and Thorae turned, and there he was: Ezan Syrn, a distinctly green Sluissi. "Welcome to Syrn."

"Ah, Ezan. I haven't seen you in a long time." Greeted Thorae, stating the facts.

"Same goes for me." The two Sluissi went on exchanging pointless words, while 3ER looked on. Finally, the Vulture droid saw fit to interrupt, by moving forward and looking at the two Sluissi. "What have we here?" Asked Syrn. "It's not often fighters stray from their base ships."

"Yes, this fellow rescued me from jail. I'm not sure what I was doing there, as I can't remember what I did, but thanks to this droid, I'm free." Thorae explained. Syrn looked surprised.

"Jail? I hope it was nothing too serious…" He said, looking around in case of any hidden law enforcement agents. The police on Sluis Van may not have been the best, but they were adept at sneaking.

"No, I don't think it was. It's me, what would I do? Make a complaint to the Confederacy's representative here?" Thorae shrugged. DFS-3ER nudged the Sluissi with one of his limbs, and gave him what he hoped was a stern look. "Ah, right! Syrn, my friend here needs power, and a vocabulator. Unless you know how to speak Vulture droid, that is."

"I have those things. Come, right this way. I'm sure you both, especially you, droid, have quite the story to tell." Syrn gestured to a small warehouse. "Come with me, the Syrn Family's storage awaits us."

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

"Disengage the Hyperdrive!" Ordered General Grievous. Corellia shot into view as the blue vortex dissipated. In a few seconds, Jerithox and Corin would be attacking from their positions as well. "Charge the plasma rotors, and begin targeting the Republic ships."

"Yes sir." Answered OOM-451. "General, the Republic ships have spread out, but there are still more of them here than at Kuat." The yellow-marked command droid reported.

"As is to be expected. How many of them are there?" Queried Grievous.

"At least thirty, sir."

"I was right again." Observed the cyborg, standing up. His cloak flowed around him as he moved quickly to the front of the bridge. At that moment, Esera Corin's _Subjugator_ came out of Hyperspace, just above the visible edge of Corellia. Grievous's eyes could barely make it out, a Human's would never be able to pick it up.

"Our Jedi friend is here." Remarked OOM-451. "And Lord Jerithox has just arrived. Looks like they can follow instructions, sir."

"Indeed. How is the IPC?" Asked Grievous.

"All charged and ready to fire, sir!" Announced a pilot droid.

"Then fire, fool!" Grievous ordered, pointing at the planet before him. _Cataclysm_ maneuvered into position and released the circle of glowing energy. It soared through space, passing through a few Republic ships, and onto the planet below. "We better have gotten those shipyards. The Star Destroyers beyond opened fire on Grievous's ship.

"Negative, general, we missed half of them." Answered OOM-451. "Shall we fire again?"

"Yes!" Commanded the cyborg.

"Charging plasma rotors." Said a pilot droid from fire control.

"And someone, fire back at the Star Destroyers!" Grievous ordered, pointing at them.

"Yes sir." With that, _Cataclysm _released it's hail of red laser fire. The battlecruiser's shields absorbed the Republic salvoes, but would not last forever against such numbers.

"Why haven't they split up?" Asked Grievous to himself. He contacted his two subordinates on the other ships. "Jerithox, Corin, what is going on?" He questioned.

"Sir, we're facing heavy fire from Republic defenses over here." Answered the Human.

"Same here, General." Replied Lord Jerithox. "I think they did split their forces, and this is it."

"They are quite prepared then." Stated Grievous. "Have you succeeded in your goals?" Asked he.

"I have, sir." Lord Jerithox replied.

"No sir, there is no signs of energy, save for defense networks, on this side of the planet. I think they prepared a blackout for us." Esera Corin reported, frowning. "It's proving hard to target, let alone find, the shipyards here." The female looked slightly worried.

"That is acceptable, considering we can at least see our targets." Grievous answered. A month ago, the cyborg would have been screaming at her in fury for such failure. A month ago, he would have tried to kill her, as she was a Jedi.

"Thank you sir, I will keep firing. Hopefully I can hit something." Grievous nodded.

"Sir, I have completed my objective, what are my orders?" Lord Jerithox questioned.

"Return back to base. We'll catch up." Commanded the general. Jerithox nodded and vanished from the hologram. "Corin, keep firing. I will move in to assist you." Suddenly, Grievous's flagship rocked. "What was that?" Yelled Grievous furiously, looking around the bridge.

"Sir, we've lost shields to the starboard side of the ship!" Announced a pilot droid.

"Impossible!" Protested the cyborg.

"Sir, there are another thirty Star Destroyers approaching from starboard!" OOM-451 said.

"Smarter than I anticipated. Get us out of here." Esera Corin still had the hologram line open. "That goes for you too, Jedi! Back to base!" Grievous ordered.

"Yes sir." She said, before cutting communications. The _Cataclysm_ began turning away from Corellia to flee the battle.

"Well, we got most of the shipyards. This should throw a wrench in their gearbox." Grievous said, using an old saying from his home planet. Kalee was never a very advanced world. Internal combustion engine vehicles were quite advanced by it's standards. As it took fire from both sides, the _Cataclysm_ shot into Hyperspace. Grievous had escaped once more. If all went well for him, he'd be escaping many more times in the days to come. "Hopefully so…" Grievous said to himself. In the meantime, there was planning to do and plots to make. Not to mention, he had to make sense of the disastrous organizational mess that was the Confederacy's armed forces. And all the competent officers that needed to be rooted out from the masses and the ones who were captured by the Jedi. The general had quite a task ahead of himself. He half-wished that the Jedi would attack his station again.


	15. Chapter 15: Proving Some Points fixed?

Yo, Timewatch here. I was alerted my previous upload was in bold and underlined for some reason, so I re-uploaded this again. If the lines come back, I have no idea what trickery this site is up to.

-Prison Block A, Main Facility, NCY-1-U, one light year off the Galactic Edge-

"So, have you had enough time to think, Jedi?" Grievous asked, sitting on a chair he brought into the cell, arms crossed. The Togruta Jedi Shaak Ti had been meditating when the cyborg burst in.

"I have thought, Grievous." She replied calmly, opening her eyes.

"What is your answer?" He asked, leaning forward.

"I want proof." Stated Shaak Ti. Grievous gestured for her to continue. "I want proof that your mind was tampered with against your will. I want proof that betraying the Republic is the right thing to do. I want proof that Palpatine was Darth Sidious." The cyborg nodded.

"Ask, and you shall receive." That statement alone, yielding to a Jedi's wishes, was nearly proof enough he had not been himself for the majority of the war. "Guards, open the door." Commanded Grievous. Two of Grievous's Magnaguards opened the cell, keeping watch over the Jedi master, and their own cyborg master. "Follow me, Master Shaak Ti." He stated, turning swiftly down the hall, his cloak flowing behind him. He began to speak as he walked. "We will be going to the medical center, where my doctor will testify as to what he found in my brain after the incident on Invisible Hand." They arrived where Grievous wanted them to. "A4-D!" Yelled he.

"Yes, master?" Answered Grievous's medical droid.

"I have someone I want you to meet." Grievous said, with a cough.

"Ooh, how exciting! Who-" A4-D saw Shaak Ti standing between the two Magnaguards. "Ah, a Jedi. What will we be doing to her?" Asked the medical droid.

"An education of what exactly happened to me." A4-D looked disappointed.

"Well then, I guess I had better start from the beginning." The droid started.

"Tell her everything you've told me so far." Grievous commanded, taking a step back. "Master Jedi, take a seat, it might be some time." Shaak Ti gratefully sat on an examining table, already weary of standing in the cold room.

"I first noticed the chips in my master's brain in the starting months of the war. He came back from the Hypori incident all damaged, which I am to understand you took part in." Shaak Ti nodded. "Of course, I brought the incident up with Count Dooku, and he told me to not say anything to the General. So the months went by with my regular examinations. There were a few times where I had to switch off the chips to avoid any damage, and noticed a slight change in my master's behavior after only a few hours. He was less likely to give into anger, but as soon as I re-inserted the chips, he would go back to the normal Grievous. One particular incident stands out…" And so A4-D went on, speaking of all the times the chips in the cyborg's head had been relevant to something. Occasionally Grievous would interject with his own statements, or Shaak Ti would ask a question. It went on for nearly two hours. "…After that old Palpatine had smashed Grievous into the wall, the chips finally became a threat to his brain. I removed most of them, except one that suppressed traumatic memories my master and I agreed he would be better off without. And that's why now, nearly three weeks later, Grievous is a changed man. It's been a fascinating transformation. We've even recruited our first Jedi!" A4-D finished as excitedly as he began.

"Thank you for that very in-depth report." Grievous stated. "Now come, Master Ti, we have more people to talk to."

"What do you mean, recruiting Jedi?" She asked, as the Magnaguards pushed her to her feet.

"Patience, Jedi. I thought you were good with that aspect of control." The cyborg said, raising his head up, and walking out of the room. The odd four walked through the halls of NCY-1-U, encountering few people but droids. At one point, OOM-27 appeared.

"Excuse me, sir." The command droid said. "Lord Jerithox needs your permission with-" OOM-27 noticed Shaak Ti and the Magnaguards. "-something…" Finished the machine. He showed Grievous a data pad. The General pondered it for a moment.

"I like it. He has a go-ahead." OOM-27 nodded and walked off the way he had come. "Let us resume our course." Grievous said, marching down the hall. "Now, Master Jedi, we will be talking to San Hill for more proof of my mind being tampered with against my will." The four walked into the IGBC's Chairman's room, and he looked up in shock.

"Oh my, General Grievous- I was not expecting you here!" San Hill hastily stood up. "If you want to see what I've been doing-"

"I am not an economist, Hill. Sit, we have some questions for you." The Muun swallowed nervously, taking his seat again.

"Um, excuse me sir, but why is she here?" He asked, pointing at Shaak Ti.

"Ah, Master Ti is on a quest to find the truth, if you will. She seeks proof my mind has been tampered with. And you have the answers." Grievous said coldly. San Hill gulped again, shrinking into his chair. "Since I have become the Head of State of the Confederacy, I've done my research. It seems you, Dooku, and Poggle the Lesser had plans for me, in which my wishes of remaining me were unheeded."

"Uh, yes." Said San Hill shakily. He had hoped this day would never come, but had prepared for it nonetheless. "You see-"

"Thank you for your confession." Grievous stated, and promptly left the room. His two guards and Jedi prisoner followed. The Muun let out a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his brow.

"And there you have it, Jedi." Said the cyborg, continuing to walk to his next destination. "Proof from two different sources I was not in full control of my actions. Whether this makes what I have done any less excusable remains to be seen, though. Personally, I am not sure myself. Now, to prove the Confederacy is the right side of the war."

"Does this involve that Jedi your droid mentioned?" Shaak Ti asked, anticipating meeting this defector.

"Yes." The four walked on in silence for some time, before arriving at an officer's quarters. Grievous knocked on this door, rather than just barge in like he had done to San Hill. The door opened after a few seconds.

"Ah, General. I had a feeling you'd turn up." Said the female Human.

"Esera Corin." Shaak Ti stated. Corin's mouth opened a little in shock, but regained control of her expression quickly.

"Master Ti- I didn't- When did you get here?" She asked.

"I'm not surprised you turned out to be the defector." The Jedi master said. "Considering your war record and statements…"

"War record? Is there another thing you're not telling me?" Grievous thought of the planet Esera Corin had mentioned while they were en route to the Kuat raid. The general had meant to stop by there after Corellia, but thought it'd be wise to gather a larger force first. That, and the longer he kept Shaak Ti imprisoned, the more likely she'd manage to escape and ruin Grievous's plans.

"Well…" The Human sighed. "I guess we all should go inside and sit down, I'd rather not tell this story standing at my door."

"Everyone has a story…" Remarked Grievous to one of his Magnaguards. It nodded in agreement. "Let's here it, Jedi." Corin and Ti took seats a good distance from each other. Grievous and his guards remained standing.

"It's not that much of a story, sir. After the mission to Lord Jerithox's home planet, after the war started, I began to slightly doubt the Republic. I became involved in some rather energetic political debates while I was on Coruscant, though I didn't actually participate directly. After a time, I began to find myself sympathetic to the Separatist cause, and I brought this up with a few Jedi in the Temple. I got a stern talking-to from Master Windu at one point, after which I became known for my doubting of the Republic. They all still trusted me, it was more of a joke than anything. Still…" Corin looked up at the ceiling. "When returning to the war, it wasn't easy to go conquering planets that had seceded voluntarily."

"It wasn't easy for any of us." Remarked Shaak Ti.

"It was easy for me to conquer." Said Grievous. The two Jedi just looked at him before turning away again.

"It certainly looked like Skywalker and his fool apprentice were having a good time." Replied Corin, looking annoyed.

"I killed them." Stated the cyborg, interjecting again.

"Yes, good for you." Esera told Grievous. "Like I said though, many Jedi seemed to be almost enjoying the war. And then there was the Clones. They're certainly a wrench in the gears." Grievous decided not to interrupt this time, but was pleased he wasn't the only one who used that phrase. "The Clone army was very professional, I'll give them that. But for an army bred for loyalty, many of them seemed to be very individualistic. Officers and commandos especially. The commander I worked with, called himself Tythas, was a very serious man. I think he hated jokes. But as serious as he was, he made a good soldier, and kept his men on a tight leash. Some others, not so much. I worked with another Jedi, one who seemed to be dangerously close to the dark side, like that Skywalker kid. He seemed hell-bent on destroying his enemies. I told you that Scykor is where I decided the Republic was wrong, General. It was more than just the devotion it's people had though." The Jedi shivered.

"This other Jedi, his name was Jorithus Brilor, another Human, like me. That's as far as similarities went. I don't think he was a Jedi at all, more of a Sith than anything. Brilor claimed that he had been wronged by all the Separatists, and was just in punishing them. He mentioned something along the lines of 'the half-droid abomination' that destroyed his family. I think he meant you, Grievous." Esera said, noting how the general suddenly looked more alert and serious. However, he did not speak. "The Scykor campaign was brutally harsh, some of the worst fighting in the war if I may say so. It took a heavy toll on all of us, especially the Clones. My legion lost nearly half their number, Brilor's legion had lost more. They were all full of anger, and some, even hate. Tythas kept his men restrained enough during what followed, but Brilor… No. His legion engaged in crimes that could rival yours, sir." Esera said to Grievous. The Jedi looked worried again for a moment, but realized Grievous wasn't going to do anything, and continued on. "I hardly think I have to describe what a bunch of angered, unrestrained soldiers can do to a civilian population. I thought the Clones were supposed to be professional." Corin shuddered. Shaak Ti looked grim.

"Surely, you put a stop to that?" She asked.

"I tried, and I even contacted high authorities in the Republic, as Brilor outranked me. I got no responses. Then the Chancellor's order came through, to round up all the resistance and deport them off-world. Scykor's population was predominantly non-Human. I learned that this was being enacted on other Outer Rim worlds." Spoke the Jedi. Shaak Ti and Grievous both looked rather surprised.

"This would make sense, considering what direction the Chancellor had the Republic on." Remarked the general. "The Republic has had increasingly pro-Human and anti-non-Human sentiments growing these past few years."

"I noticed that too." Agreed Esera. "Eventually, I tried to stop Brilor myself, but realized he was far too gone to stop with words, the dark side was consuming him. Yet, he still had undying loyalty to the Republic. I reported these actions to the Temple, but I'm not sure if action was ever taken. My legion and I were transferred to Wrileth shortly after, where I defected to the CIS. And that is my story."

"I see." Shaak Ti remarked. "I was… unaware there was such anti-alien feeling amongst the Republic."

"Alien? Non-Human? Why is it always centered around them?" Grievous pondered aloud. "Are we only important enough to achieve the status us something not Human?" Esera looked slightly guilty.

"I can't help how ethnocentric Humans are in regards to history." She said.

"This has been all very enlightening, but I'm not convinced the Republic's crimes outweigh your's, Grievous." Master Ti told the cyborg. Grievous nodded.

"A valid point, Jedi. Come along, let us talk to Lord Jerithox. Thank you for your time, other Jedi." Grievous said to Esera.

"When do I get a rank, sir?" She asked. "I'm not really with the Temple anymore…"

"Sometime in the next week or two. Now come, Master Ti. We must move out." The four again set off on the quest for information. "Tell me, Jedi, how familiar are you with the Kresor and the planet of Thataliz?"

"I've heard of them, and there was a small skirmish in the system. That's as much as I know." Shaak Ti answered.

"Have you heard of the Loron virus?" Asked the General.

"They have a cure for it." Replied the Togruta Jedi.

"It's a disease that targets the immune system. Not only does it do that, but it went airborne on Thataliz. Nearly half the planet was wiped out before war started. My friend, Lord Jerithox, managed to survive. You've met him before." Grievous said.

"He stopped me from killing you and ending this conflict." The Jedi noted.

"Yes, that was he. Now, you get to talk to him face to face." While Grievous had been talking, they had arrived at another officer's quarters. The General knocked on the door, and it opened automatically.

"Welcome, sir." Lord Jerithox stood. "Just on time, too."

"I make time work for me." Grievous said. "I have a Jedi here, you've met her before."

"Ah, Shaak Ti, I remember you! I hit you with that pole and saved the good General here." Greeted the Kresor.

"Yes, I recall." Replied the Jedi, frowning.

"Well, take a seat then. You're no doubt expecting me to tell you why you would be better off with the Confederacy than the Republic?" Shaak Ti nodded. "I bet you've got a lot of Republic-bashing already today, so I don't think any more will do harm. Thataliz has always been a rather poor planet, our people not the most inclined towards change. We've had the same feudal oligarchy since a time immemorial. I come from the upper levels of society, thus my title as 'Lord.' We generally voted on someone from some noble family to be our senator in the republic. Lord Thoraz was made our senator around the time of the Naboo incident, with the Trade Federation. Some off-worlder brought the Loron virus onto our planet, purely by accident. How were they to know what was going to happen? It spread by blood at first, infected needles and the like."

"Needles?" Shaak Ti asked.

"I told you, Thataliz has always been poor. Hypodermic needles were the chief way of injecting things to the blood. And drug use was a major problem, addicts don't generally care about the state of the needle. That's how it began to spread. We tried to keep it contained, and requested aid from the Republic. But, since we didn't contribute anything, our requests were denied on the grounds of no value. We already relied on the Republic for other things, like fuel for vehicles, I guess they got tired of supporting us. Normally, the Senate passes these measures, and if they wanted to look good in the media, they would have passed this without a question. How better to show you're a good person to the world than to sent support to a poor planet with little resources?" Grievous nodded to himself.

"It would be a wise political move, according to Dooku's list." The General stated.

"Indeed. However, the request was denied, which leads me to believe it never went up for vote. Rather, it got the stamp of no approval in some office, earned with the power of money, if you know what I mean. And there you have it, the beginning of the end for half the Kresor race, pretty much." Jerithox laughed. "One day, it just went airborne. No one knew why it mutated that way, but that's how it is with viruses. We could only purchase enough of the cure to protect us in the oligarchy."

"Huh. Now why am I not surprised at that?" Shaak Ti commented. Jerithox gave her a look.

"Just looking out for number one, Jedi. Aren't your kind good at that, after all?" Shot back the Kresor. "Moving on, over the next few years, millions died. Not quite billions, we're not a big race. Unfortunately, the virus got to me before the cure. The cure isn't so much as a cure as it is an inoculation. It doesn't work if you already have it, I don't know why, I'm not a microbiologist. I'm still just barely surviving, fighting off the simplest of diseases with the greatest effort. It'll only get worse as time goes on, and eventually, I will die." Jerithox said, smiling. "All thanks to the corruption in your Republic."

"But that's just one world. What about all the planets that have suffered at the hands of Grievous?" Asked the Jedi.

"Just one world?" Replied Jerithox. "My dear Jedi, one's home is never just one world. Grievous's actions are a result of the war. What happened on Thataliz was a result of your government failing to deal with a crisis, before the Separatist Movement even began. Nothing to do with the war, Jedi! Only your Republic's actions. And things would have continued like this if not for Dooku standing up and doing something about it." The Kresor said pointedly. "Then, the Movement began, and a little thing I call the Separatist Syndrome happened."

"The Separatist Syndrome is a neglected world suddenly possessing something the Republic needs for it's war effort. Jabiim, Scykor, Thataliz, we all have something in common: A previously undiscovered ore, mineral, material, resource, or whatever useful to the war suddenly being found. All our planets had seceded, or were seceding, when the Republic came to once-ignored worlds, like nothing had ever happened, asking for our newfound resources. Naturally, we told them to get the hell off our planet and go back to their cushy apartments on Coruscant. They didn't like this, and brought war to our world. Luckily, the Confederacy sent military help, along with medical help, to Thataliz. And that, is my story. You will find many like it, just ask people in the Volunteer Forces. People from all over the galaxy, each one with their own report of where the Republic went wrong, and why they fight against it." Lord Jerithox finished his tale with a cough.

"Thank you for your time, Lord Jerithox. I will be back tomorrow to discuss our plans for the CIS." Grievous stated, turning towards the door. The Kresor nodded, and returned to his desk. "Come along, Jedi."

"Now, who are we visiting?" Asked Shaak Ti.

"No one. Well, it depends on what visit means. We will be watching a security recording of Dooku's last words to me." The General said. Very classified information, you know. I'm not sure if Esera Corin knows the truth."

"Do you plan on telling the galaxy who Palpatine was?"

"I'm not sure…" Grievous half-muttered to himself. "It may do more harm than good." After more silent walking, the four came to a chamber with a large holoprojector. Grievous brought up a screen, and inserted a series of passwords and codes, and reached an archive. After a good deal of scrolling through things, he found what he was looking for. "Most of these are from my battle with your friends, but I do keep other favorite recordings of mine in this file. Here we go, Dooku's last moments in this world." He pushed a button, and a near life-size version of Grievous and Dooku in a Bacta-tank appeared, albeit blue and semi-transparent.

"I told you I didn't want my mind altered!" Rumbled the hologram Grievous.

"It doesn't matter anymore." The hologram Count replied weakly.

"Altering my brain against my wishes doesn't matter?"

"Not anymore. It's over, Grievous. You killed them both."

"What's over? And why?"

"The plan. Darth Sidious… He is- well, was Palpatine. His plan was to bring Anakin Skywalker to the dark side, and wipe out the Jedi so the Sith would rule. You killed them both, and Kenobi on top of it. I was temporary. I don't have much time left, but there is something you must understand."

"You don't have much time left?" Grievous paused the recording. Something about the General's hologram's last line had sounded odd to Shaak Ti. Almost as if Grievous didn't believe the Count would die. Or could die.

"As you see, Jedi, Count Dooku himself told me." Stated the Cyborg. "Is this proof enough?"

"I want to see what happened afterwards." Shaak Ti said. "In the recording." Grievous gave her a suspicious look.

"Why?" He asked.

"I'm curious. And no matter how this ends, I'm not getting back to the Republic, I think." She replied. The General nodded.

"Very well." Grievous resumed the recording.

"This body will die soon. I will not live to see my own plans through. I was going to betray Sidious, ever since I figured out what he was plotting. He played both sides of this war, like a game. It was never a game to me, General. The Confederacy is real. I believe what we're fighting for. I know you don't care why you fight." The hologram Grievous raised a finger, as if to make a point, but he didn't speak. "It's imperative that you understand. You must realize the larger picture. You must not fight simply because you hate the Jedi, or Republic, or just want to fight. You must fight for what I fought for. What everyone else fights for. An end to the corruption and injustice. A better future for everyone, everywhere, not just the wealthy. That is what you must fight for." The wounded Count paused for a moment, staring at Grievous, as if to make sure he was listening, before going on.

"Right now, it seems absurd to you, doesn't it? But with that chip removed, in time, you will believe. The Republic has lost its leader, and two of their best Jedi, and it was broadcasted across the Galaxy. Morale in the Confederacy has never been higher. I leave you in a good spot, General. You're taking my place as Head of State. If there is one thing I ask of you, don't turn the Confederacy into what we've been fighting. Oh, and there are some things in the box for you…" Hologram Grievous lifted a box from out of the camera's view, and looked inside. He pulled out the Count's lightsaber, and looked to Dooku questioningly. "You will know what to do with it when the time comes. Good luck, Grievous."

"Count..?" Asked Grievous. The Human slowly slumped down in the tank, eyes closing for the last time. "Everything has it's time…" Remarked the hologram cyborg. With that, the recording stopped.

"And there you have it, the death of the man who started it all." The General said solemnly.

"Do you still have the lightsaber?" Asked the Jedi master.

"Yes." Answered Grievous. "I keep it somewhere safe. I found it uncomfortable to wield…"

"I honestly don't see how. You kill Jedi for their weapons." Stated Shaak Ti.

"Exactly. I didn't kill Dooku, he gave my his weapon freely. And for that reason, I cannot bring myself to use it." Said the cyborg.

"How peculiar." Shaak Ti said to herself. "You're quite the odd one, General."

"Indeed. Now, Jedi, do you have your proof?"

"Yes, but I still am unsure if joining you would be worse than serving the Republic." She replied.

"Very well." Stated the General. "I will arrange for you to talk with one of our volunteer squads, then we will see what you think. In the meantime, it's back to your cell."

"Lead the way, Grievous."

4uth0rz n0+3: Gee, another chapter in only a week or so? I must be living up to my promise… Anyways, I went back and scanned through the whole story again, and I'm pretty sure no one but Grievous and now Shaak Ti know that Sidious was Palpatine. I may be wrong though, so if you could tell me, that'd be nice.

The next few chapters will be very lacking, action-wise. It'll mostly be character development as the fleet at NCY-1-U develops. Ugh, character development. Boring but necessary, as Battlestar Galactica teaches us.


	16. Chapter 16: ReOrganization

-Lord Jerithox's quarters, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

The Kresor noble leaned back in his chair, looking over the plans he had been drawing up. OOM-27, his assistant commander droid, was also there. For reasons he did not know, the droid was sitting down. Right on time as usual, Grievous entered. "Good evening, sir." Greeted Jerithox.

"Good evening? What time is it?"

"We're nearing midnight." Answered OOM-27.

"My day has been longer than expected." The General said almost to himself.

"What happened?" Jerithox asked.

"The Separatist Council happened. I thought it'd be easier now that I've made peace with Gunray, but even together, we can't control them. Especially that Tambor. He is a loose cannon!" Grievous complained, taking a seat. "Onto business, though."

"Indeed. The Confederacy lacks military organization. Let's go over what we've got done so far." Jerithox pulled out a list. "Rankings? Done. New ranks for our current officers? Done. Yes, that is about it."

"Go over what ranks we have." Grievous ordered. OOM-27 brought up another list and handed it to Jerithox.

"Let's see… At the top, we have the Supreme Commander of the Confederacy. That's you, sir, but I think General will be sticking as your title for a long time to come." Grievous nodded. "Next, we have Generals and Admirals. This is where things split. Navy first: At the top, there is High Admiral, who answers directly to you. Below him or her, we have the Admirals, then Vice Admiral. Down from there, we have Captain, Commander, Lieutenant Commander, Lieutenant, and Ensign, though the posts filled by Ensigns are mainly what our droids do. Moving onto the Army: The highest authority next to you in this division is the aptly-named General Field Marshal, or simply, General. This used to be you, for all intents of purposes. Below them is the Field Marshal, and then the Marshal. After that there is Colonel, Major, Captain, Lieutenant, Sergeant, Corporal, and finally, Private. Most of the lower slots are filled out by droids." Jerithox finished the list. "I took most of those titles from my people's own history, you know."

"Very good. And we already have re-assigned ranks, for the most part." Grievous commented.

"Indeed, almost everyone, except us in the highest ranks." Lord Jerithox hinted, trying to remind the General he himself had not received a new rank.

"Earlier today you had a proposal for new uniforms?" Asked Grievous.

"Ah, yes, I did. That's another thing we lack. Dooku tried to implement them, but no one really followed the rules. Some of our best leaders especially. I liked them, though they could have been more distinct." Jerithox explained. "The gloves and boots definitely had an official air to them, though glove are rather sinister if you ask me. But the grey- too similar to what the Republic officers wear. We need something striking, something that people can see and know the person wearing it is with the Confederacy. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes." Simply said the General.

"Glad to hear it. I think black would be a good color. Despite it's sinister connotations, it does set us aside from the Republic's green-grey." Jerithox suggested.

"I like black." Grievous agreed. "I think there would be a more prominent display of rank. A quick-identification method for me."

"The Republic uses those little chest-badge things, perhaps we should return to the shoulder epaulet." Jerithox pondered. The cyborg nodded.

"You work on the designs. Make something bold, recognizable, our officers need to look their best if we're going to draw in more recruits. Never doubt the power of impressions. In the meantime, I'll get out the new rankings to everyone. I'm going to need you for a special mission next week, so be prepared." Stated the General.

"Yes sir." Responded Lord Jerithox.

"Excellent. Droid!" Barked Grievous. OOM-27 looked up.

"Yes sir?"

"I require your assistance. Come along." He ordered.

"Roger-" For a second, it seemed like the command droid had broken the program. "-roger." But it was not to be. The dejected machine followed the cyborg out.

-_Celestius_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, spacedock, orbiting Sluis Van-

"Gee, it sure is boring around here." Admiral Dreon Kronak sighed. A report came up about a rogue Vulture droid, but the admiral couldn't be bothered about it. He was too busy overseeing the slow repairs to his ship. A month had not even gone by since Wrileth. Suddenly, the mini-holoprojector on his chair beeped. A message! He pressed the button to begin communication. "Hello?" He asked.

"Kronak!" Yelled the miniature hologram of General Grievous.

"Good morning, sir!" Kronak stiffly saluted.

"I am to understand your ship won't be repaired for some time?" Asked the cyborg.

"You are correct, sir." Answered the Vesila.

"Then I have a new ship for you at these coordinates. Report here immediately." Ordered Grievous.

"Immediately?" Asked he.

"Immediately as in leave right this instant! I want you here in time for an important meeting of the Confederacy's top officers." Commanded the General.

"I wasn't aware I was that high up, sir." Said Dreon Kronak cautiously.

"You are now." With that, the transmission cut out.

"Well, I guess I had better pack my things." Kronak stood up, and looked over the bridge. He pointed to a random pilot droid. "You're in charge now." The Vesila turned to leave, and gave another glance back. "I think I may miss this place." With that, he left the bridge of _Celestius_.

-Somewhere on Murkhana-

Three more Republic artillery blasts came crashing down. Commander Vulpus hit the ground for the tenth time that afternoon. He had once been in a much better position than this current one, but that had been years ago. Things didn't seem to hopeful when one was laying in a muddy trench. "Sergeant, what's the status of the defenses?" He shouted over the roar of incoming fire. The B1 droid fumbled with it's words.

"Uh, well, sir. I guess we don't really have anything left. The Clones took out our last heavy artillery on that blast, all we have are the light repeaters. And uh, well, us." The droid explained, crouching down. Vulpus stood up, trying not to feel the shrapnel in his lower leg.

"This situation is grim." Stated the officer. A beeping noise came from his wrist communicator. He switched it on. "Vulpus here." He said calmly, in contrast to his chaotic surroundings.

"Ah, Commander. It's been a long time." Said a familiar voice.

"General Grievous, what brings your attentions to this place?" Asked he.

"I need you to report to the following coordinates I'm sending you." Stated the rough voice of the General.

"Very well sir, but Murkhana is under heavy blockade from the Republic." Vulpus explained. "The situation is rapidly deteriorating down here, we can hold out another week at best, a few days at worst. I don't believe we have sufficient air superiority to get off the planet."

"I can deal with that. In three days I will be sending enough reinforcements to buy you some time and get you off the planet, I have need of your infuriatingly calm demeanor. Are you part Sluissi?" Asked the General. Vulpus did not recall Grievous being so… amiable.

"I may be, sir. I'm not sure what species I am anyways. But what are you sending to assist me?"

"Two _Lucrehulk_-carriers will be delivering droids, a battleship variant and eight _Munificents_ will be providing escort. Is this enough to get you off-world intact?" Questioned Grievous.

"Yes, sir. I'll be waiting their arrival."

"Good…"

-_Lucrehulk_-class Battleship _Zengjuk_, 200 kilometers above Mygeeto-

"Indeed, Viceroy Gunray, the victory here has been a complete success." Stated Captain Mar Tuuk.

"I am glad to hear it, Captain-" A new figure entered the bridge's large view screen.

"Move, Gunray!" Ordered Grievous.

"Hey-" Began the Neimoidian.

"Silence!" The cyborg pushed his way onto the screen. "Captain!" Barked the General. Mar Tuuk saluted.

"Sir! I was just speaking to Viceroy Gunray about our victory here at Mygeeto, thanks to your actions above Coruscant." Said the Neimoidian captain.

"Indeed." Replied Grievous. "But I'm gathering all the highest ranked officers in the Confederacy for something important."

"How flattering you remembered me." Mar Tuuk noted. Viceroy Gunray made his way back into the screen.

"I thought I was supposed to be informed about these kinds of things, now that-" Protested Gunray.

"All in good time." Grievous cut him off. "Captain, set course for the coordinates I'm sending you at once. We've got something to do."

"Yes sir." Answered Mar Tuuk.

-Communications Room B, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

"Now, General, what are you up to?" Questioned Gunray, as Grievous shut off the screen.

"I'm summoning our top officers. Someone's got to organize this war, I have enough work to do already." Stated the cyborg.

"Ah, top officers. That Lord Jerithox is a good choice if you're promoting people. He's almost as good at organizing as me." Replied Gunray.

"Is he now? I'll keep that in mind. But this is where you come into all this."

"What?" Asked the Neimoidian, straightening out his flamboyant hat.

"I am making you the official head of civilian affairs in this government. Even though I'm back to my who I was, I still don't have infinite patience." Said Grievous. "You will have control over the Council, and their actions. Managing logistics, production, cost, taxes, and everything. I have no mind for those kinds of things, but you do. Waging a galactic war costs a lot, and whatever we can do to drive down the costs and up efficiency will be good. Smarter battle droids are key to this. It may cost a lot now, but a few months down the line when casualties decrease by half, then you'll see."

"This whole war is a fiscal mess." Sighed Gunray. "I told Dooku many times that simply changing a few procedures could save us millions. For example, did you know that the _Munificent_ frigates consume twenty-three hundred tons of fuel a second when their engines are on full burn? If we make engines that are simply more efficient, the fuel problem would be gone." The Neimoidian said. "It doesn't take much money to make a new engine. We have the technology, we can rebuild them!"

"Precisely why I'm appointing you to this position. Search out things such as the _Munificent_ engines, and make them better. Run all your decisions through me, of course. We'll cut down on costs enough that we can still run a war economy and improve, or perhaps replace, what we already have." Agreed Grievous. "The last thing we need is to go bankrupt when at war. And since when this is all over, you'll be the only corporations left, that'll leave a monopoly in your hands. Just like Dooku promised." The General said.

"I'll get to work straight away!" Gunray exclaimed.

"Remember, Viceroy, you're to make things more efficient and cost-effective. Not to cut corners on construction of our fleets and armies." Stated Grievous. The Neimoidian nodded. "You are dismissed." The Viceroy left the communications room. Grievous, wondering why he was still there himself, left shortly after.

-War Room A, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

Nearly a week passed, as those summoned by Grievous arrived at the Naval Construction Yard 1, current home of the Ultimate Weapon. It'd be a few more years at least until the General would move operations onto it, so for now, they used the construction facility. The War Room looked out over a part of the vast shipyards beyond, where thousands upon thousands of new Confederate vessels were being constructed. The three _Subjugator_'s were each in their own docks, alongside the six others under construction. NCY-1-U was arranged in a very peculiar fashion, almost like a wheel. In the center was the main facility. The war room itself looked out over an area the _Subjugator_ section, the nine massive ships arranged around it. The shipyard's were all interconnected, and beyond the nine ships there were several hundred _Lucrehulk_-class battleships and carriers under construction, some nearly done, the others only half-way to completion. The _Providence_-class destroyers were being built outside of that section.Beyond those were _Munificent_ and _Recusant _areas, the backbone of the CIS's navy. Mixed in around all areas were the massive plants building the Vulture droids and Tri-fighters. Aside from everything else was the Ultimate Weapon, the edges of which were just barely visible from the left side of the war room's window.

Once this fleet was done, Grievous intended to have the _Munificent_ and _Recusant_ design greatly overhauled, and the _Providence_'s strengthened. Perhaps the addition of heavy bow weaponry would do the class of Grievous's previous flagship good. The General was fond of the _Invisible Hand_, but it simply couldn't compete with the firepower _Cataclysm_ offered, just like _Malevolence_ before it. Grievous went over his agenda again. Everything was in order. Lord Jerithox and OOM-27 entered. The Kresor officer was wearing the new uniform he had designed, and Grievous admitted it would look much better than the assorted clothing the officers of the CIS had previously worn. Distinction was valuable.

"Good morning, General." Greeted the two.

"Good morning. All is in order for today's meeting. Have you summoned everyone?" Asked the General.

"Everyone should be on their way shortly, sir." OOM-27 answered. "I have a question I've been meaning to ask."

"Ask, commander." Said Grievous.

"I'd like to get a different voice. I feel I can't be taken seriously with this strange, high-pitched one. I was a Naboo veteran sir, at least then we sounded a little more threatening." The droid replied.

"I feel no droid can be taken seriously with that voice. I agree, all droids shall revert to the old voices. Although, they'd sound much more intimidating with that high-pitched voice if they were simply better soldiers… You may revert to the old one, I will hold off on the main force. There are hundreds of millions of them after all." Grievous noted.

"I believe the official figure is in the quadrillions, sir." OOM-27 pointed out.

"Imagine a quadrillion effective soldiers… We'd be unstoppable!"

"Indeed, sir. But imagine if they got smart enough to question their position in things?" Asked Jerithox. OOM-27 tried to shrink back and hoped the two wouldn't notice him suddenly.

"Then that wouldn't be good." Grievous replied. "What do you think, droid?" OOM-27 fumbled for words.

"Uh- Well, um- I guess I've never really thought about it." Said the machine.

"Good." Grievous said in a low tone.

"Sir, everyone has arrived." Announced Jerithox, looking towards the door. "Or at least they have by now, if they don't want a harsh punishment."

"Let them in." The doors to the room opened, and in filed all the people Grievous had summoned, officers from all over the Confederacy whose actions and achievements had stood out. Among them were such noted figures as Captain Tuuk, Commander Vulpus, and General Saarishi, the Sluissi commander who had defeated Republic forces on his home planet and gained much fame throughout the Confederacy. Also were such un-noted figures, like Admiral Dreon Kronak, who had officially wandered into a Republic staging ground and escaped alive, and the completely unknown Human female whose name nobody knew and very few recognized.

"Good morning, General." Said the Neimoidian Mar Tuuk. "I believe I speak for us all when I say I'm curious to see why we were all summoned with such haste. And more importantly, how this place has remained secret this long."

"Welcome to Naval Construction Yard 1." Began Grievous. "And it's not secret anymore, the Republic discovered we were here some two and a half weeks ago, and attacked. Fortunately, we destroyed their fleet sent to deal with us. They underestimated our new power… You are all here for a very important reason: You are the best the Confederacy has to offer."

"How flattering, sir." Noted Vulpus.

"No interruptions!" Ordered the General. "Take a seat, everyone. We've got some things to go over." There were exactly enough chairs around the holomap for everyone assembled, even OOM-27. Grievous had his special chair moved into the room for this occasion. At the head of the table, he looked like he was a king on a throne. Or an emperor. "Lord Jerithox here and I have been re-organizing the way things are done. It's taken some time, but we've got it all worked out."

"Is that why he has a new uniform?" Asked a Muun captain.

"Yes, actually." Affirmed Grievous. "Jerithox, you can take it from here." The Kresor cleared his throat, this time for clarity of speech rather than to clean out assorted slimes that gathered from all the diseases that constantly assaulted him. He decided to tell the assembly what he had told Grievous several days before.

"Here we go, pay attention. At the top, we have the Supreme Commander of the Confederacy. This would be General Grievous. Supreme Commander Grievous doesn't have a nice ring to it, so I believe General will stay his title, but that's just me. Next, we have Generals and Admirals. It splits from here. Navy first: At the top, there is High Admiral, who answers directly to the General. Below them, we have the Admirals, then Vice Admiral. Going down, we have Captain, Commander, Lieutenant Commander, Lieutenant, and Ensign, though the posts filled by Ensigns are basically what our droids do. The Army: The highest authority next to General Grievous in this division is the General Field Marshal. This used to be the General, pretty much. Below them would be the Field Marshals, and then the Marshals. After that, Colonel, Major, Captain, Lieutenant, Sergeant, Corporal, and finally, Private. Most of the lower slots are filled out by droids. I've taken most of the rank titles from the old Kresor military, as well as elements of the uniform. You versed in history may know that." Jerithox finished. "So, onto ranks." Jerithox gestured to the General.

"Indeed. Let us start in alphabetical order…" Grievous began to list the new promotions for the assembled officers. Captain Mar Tuuk found himself an admiral, Dreon Kronak did not gain or lose any ranks. Commander Vulpus had the highest honor of General Field Marshal, they needed someone who could do what must be done and do it while discussing the weather over a cup of tea. Saarishi became a Field Marshal, and the Muun who had spoken earlier was promoted to Vice Admiral. This left only three people unranked in the room: Esera Corin, Lord Jerithox, and OOM-27. The droid wasn't sure if he'd get a rank at all. "This is probably news to most of you, but we have a Jedi in our midst." Grievous stated. The leadership grumbled amongst themselves, and looked questioningly to Grievous.

"What's a Jedi doing here?" Asked Field Marshal Saarishi. Grievous said nothing, and only looked at them all.

"The answer is obvious, my friend." Said General Field Marshal Vulpus. "Either the Jedi is an assassin here to kill us, or the Jedi is a defector on our side. And since General Grievous is such a capable warrior and now the leader of the CIS, either the Jedi would've struck by now or he would have. This leads me to believe the Jedi is a defector, and since there's only one person in this room whom I don't know or know of, besides the droid, this means the Jedi is the Human female sitting next to Lord Jerithox." Deduced Vulpus. Grievous gave a small clap.

"Very good, General. Officers, this is Esera Corin, who's been fighting for us since I became the Head of State." Esera nodded to everyone.

"Hello there." She said, hiding her nervousness well.

"It would be rude to doubt her, she's already proven herself to me on multiple occasions. Esera here had the chance to send the plans and location of the Ultimate Weapon out there to the Republic before I had time to rally this place, she led a third of our forces in the very battle that took place here, and she's accompanied Jerithox and I on our small raid into the Inner Rim." Stated Grievous, looking sternly at everyone.

"For only three or so weeks, you've got a good record." Commented Admiral Kronak. "And to think I had doubts about going to Wrileth to pick you up."

"So that's what you were doing there." Admiral Tuuk observed.

"Enough." Commanded Grievous. "I am leaving our Jedi friend's rank open until further notice. She's done well in space warfare, I want to see if she's better at ground warfare."

"Sir, I'm no good to you on the ground." Protested she. "I'm no frontline commander like the rest of the Jedi. I've seen enough of that in three years to last me a lifetime. I think I'd be more effective where my only-mediocre skill with a lightsaber won't matter." Esera said.

"Very well." Simply replied Grievous. "Hold on for just a minute now. Commander droid, what is your designation?" Asked the cyborg. OOM-27 snapped to attention.

"I am Commander OOM-27, sir." He said.

"You're the reason this installation is not in Republic hands. Congratulations, Captain OOM-27." The droid would have look shocked, if he could express emotions on his face. Even a promotion of one rank was massive for a droid.

"Uh- Gee, sir. I didn't think I made enough of a contribution-" Began the droid.

"Nonsense. You've done better here than any organic commander I can name, except maybe Vulpus there." The alien of unknown species nodded. "Which brings me to you, Jerithox." All eyes turned to the Kresor.

"Yes, I've been wondering about this. I've only brought it up a few times." He said wryly.

"Don't be hasty. You have incredible potential, and you're the only person in this room who has defeated a Jedi in hand-to-hand combat aside from me. Kind of. Despite your adherence to tradition while overseeing building here, you've done very well with the time given to you. I see why Count Dooku left you up to this task. Furthermore, you're extremely adept at organization, Viceroy Gunray has told me. Coming from a Neimoidian, that means something. Congratulations, High Admiral." The Kresor didn't say anything for a moment.

"I believe I must agree with what the droid said: Gee." Grievous snorted, and a few officers laughed.

"Captain 27 will be serving under you for the time being. I know you're not the most trusting of droids, but you'll have to get over that. 27 here has proved his worth." Said the General. "And now back to you, Jedi. I think you too shall be promoted to the spot of Captain. Like 27 is serving under Jerithox, you'll serve under my command. I considered admiral, but you haven't had enough experience for that/"

"Thank you, sir." Esera said.

"You and the droid will be tested for your leadership abilities before going off on your own. Speaking of the droid, I believe he has a report to make on something very important."

"I do, sir." The droid stood up, and typed in some commands to the holomap. It projected a _Imperator_-class Star Destroyer-like vessel, though it lacked any bridge tower or hangars. "I've been working on this since we captured it after the battle, and was beginning to think everyone had forgotten about such a threat. This is called the _Apocalypse_ Weapon. It's a ship that can disable massive amounts of droids at once, thus why it's name is fitting. One of these could potentially take out an entire army of ours in a matter of minutes. It's firing rate is much higher than the IPC's of our _Subjugator_s. I believe this was the only one, but I'm counting on more being deployed in the future. This kind of ship would be too valuable for the Republic not to use, even if in the past they've disdained super weapons."

"Very interesting." Noted the Muun Vice Admiral. "Is there a way to counter such a threat?"

"At first, we believed so, but after repeated testing of it ourselves, there is only one counter: To stop it before it stops us." The droid stated. The officers grumbled.

"Very out of character for the Republic to use such a thing." Noted Saarishi.

"Indeed." Said Grievous. "27, tell us, what are it's weaknesses?"

"Normally, sir, Star Destroyers all have the same weak spots: The bridge tower, the hangars, and so forth. This ship lacks all of these. The only way you can hit it bad is when it opens up, like so." The projection of the ship moved. The whole front half opened up like a six-armed flower, revealing a dish inside. Energy from the new arms channeled into the dish, and fired. The beam went off the projector and disappeared. "As you see, it can open, fire, and close, all within a minute. It's incredibly dangerous to us."

"So it would seem. What's new that we can counter it with?" Asked Vulpus.

"Nothing." Stated Grievous. "As the Republic strides forward, we stay at virtually what we started with three years ago. Even with the added ships we'll have from this facility, we can only counter the Republic so long. Their new _Imperator_-class ships are more than a match for any of our vessels below the _Lucrehulk_. I've proposed a mass-refit of all our _Munificent_s_,_ _Recusant_s, and _Providence_s it won't be long before the Council approves it. This mainly includes stronger shields, added armor plating, and increased weapon complement. To compensate for all this, we'll be designing more efficient engines and new, high-yield reactors, at the advice of Viceroy Gunray. In addition to these, I've put forth the availability of a contract for a new fighter to the six corporations backing out cause. Finally, I've also made it a priority to get new droids. The B1 is weak and stupid, quite frankly. I seek to give it more intelligence and more endurance." Grievous looked about the assembly. "However, this is not your concern. These are the Council's affairs, they have more of a mind for this.

"Your concern is the next few months. Some of you were here for my plan, some of you were not. In the simplest terms, my gamble of tying the Republic up in the Outer Rim so I could strike Coruscant worked perfectly. It worked too perfectly, the Republic still goes strong out there, and we're left with a dire situation. The Confederacy is closer to defeat than we'd like to admit. Not as close as it was the day before Coruscant, but close nonetheless. Sieges have only broken on a few worlds, such as Mygeeto and Sluis Van. Some, like Murkhana and Felucia, are on the brink of falling." Grievous brought up a map of the galaxy, the same he had used days before. There was still a great deal more Republic red than CIS blue.

"I do not intend to reinforce the worlds under siege with the fleet here. I intend to strike the heart of the Republic once more, over and over. It'll be the reverse of the plan I put into action nearly seven months ago, we'll force them to withdraw into the Inner and Mid Rims, leavings our planets free to work to their fullest and crush the Republic. We stand on a precipice, and one wrong move will cause everything we've worked for to fall. The Confederacy, even with it's current state of morale, cannot afford many more defeats. Now that Sluis Van has broken their siege, we can use those shipyards to boost our production. The fleet here will attack the Inner Rim repeatedly, the Sluis Van fleet will be used to assist our beleaguered worlds out here. Here's what you've all been waiting for: Assignments." Grievous took out a list.

"Admiral Tuuk, Captain Corin, I like the alliteration… But yes, Tuuk, Corin, and I will be targeting Inner Rim worlds. High Admiral Jerithox, Captain 27, and Admiral Kronak, you will be forming your own strike force to attack Mid Rim worlds. Go after lightly defended ones first, draw their ships away from more vital zones. Then, you will attack what once was defended well. Do not return until you've inflicted substantial losses." Commanded the cyborg.

"I take it that you will have two _Subjugator_s to deal with the larger amount of defenses in the Inner Rim, sir?" Asked Admiral Kronak.

"You are correct." Replied the General. "Vulpus, Saarishi, you're in charge of working with the Council on the new ships and droids until I return. There are plenty of droid designers here, they will assist you and the Council in the upgrade process. I regret to put such a task on you, but you're up to it. You're both calmer than I, you can deal with it." The cyborg told them. "Everyone else, you'll be receiving your orders shortly. That, and your new uniforms. Jerithox and I agree that everyone must look the part. It inspires the populace, something we can never have too much of. You are dismissed." Grievous commanded. Everyone filed out, except for Esera Corin and High Admiral Jerithox. "Does something need to be addressed?" Grievous asked them.

"I was wondering about Master Shaak Ti. It's been a week since you presented proof to her of all these things, and…" Began the Jedi.

"She is still alive, if that's what you're asking. I send a few squads of our organic volunteers up there to tell her why they were fighting. A few of them had the answer she was expecting, such as doing it for the money or because they were bored, but many had answers that made us look better." Replied the General. "Eventually, we'll win her over."

"If she's refusing to join our side, why don't you kill her?" Jerithox questioned.

"Because…" Grievous thought for a moment. "She's survived fighting me three times now. No one else has, not even Kenobi. If she can do that, then she's more valuable to us alive than dead." The cyborg said.

"I survived my first encounter with you, I even defected." Stated the Human Jedi.

"It's a sign!" Exclaimed Jerithox. "But in all seriousness, sir. Why are we keeping her around if she's reluctant to side with us? Everyday Shaak Ti lives is another day she can escape and wreak havoc on us. And I don't think I'll be able to hit her over the head with a pole this time." Said the admiral.

"I don't need to answer to you two!" Growled Grievous, stalking out of the room.

"Well, that seems like a touchy subject for him." Jerithox noted.

"Indeed." Replied the Jedi. "What goes on inside his head no one will ever know."

"I was going to ask him how long it would be before the fleet was completed…" Sighed the admiral. "Well, there's always tomorrow. I have a feeling he'll make himself scarce for the rest of the day. I guess we had better go do something more productive than stand here."

"Yea, we probably should." Agreed the Jedi. "Let's get to work."

Author's long, explanatory, rambling note: Well, there we have it. One day late because I forgot to post this last night. As you may see, I've taken the CIS in a different direction. Black uniforms, aren't those sinister? Yes, but they look cool. The Germans understood this way back in the 30s. It was a nation down on it's luck, like many CIS worlds, and humiliated by the defeat in 1918. Hitler and his homies understood the value of inspiration and impression, something I think Grievous would understand as well.

Except, Grievous isn't like Hitler, aside from the charismatic part. And the whole idea of leading a nation to it's ultimate victory, and the destruction of their enemies. Oh, and the taking over for a dead leader. Not to mention the rapid construction of a top-of-the-line army and navy in only a few years, er, weeks in this story. And the fact he and his henchman Jerithox have introduced German-style ranks to the CIS. Wait a second…

Oh dear. Well, I'll say that I don't support the Nazi Party or it's goals in any way (except good treatment of animals, and getting rid of smoking in public places). You never know what people on the internet will think. The main reason I did that is because I want the CIS to be distinctly different from the Republic, which in it's own propaganda show is obviously based on the Americans while keeping the German-inspired Empire prelude to it. Like our favorite cyborg said himself: This is Grievous and the Confederacy's war now, not Dooku and the Separatists' war. Time to end this note.


	17. Chapter 17: Talks Fixed

-Apparently, chapter 13 uploaded again instead of 17, the true update. This site has been doing some mighty odd things lately.

Anyways: Timewatch here. It's been a while, but luckily, one of you good readers reminded me I needed to update. This chapter was already half done, so I simply finished it up. Now I actually have to write hard things, like space battles and the like.

Disclaimer that shows up every few chapters to remind any would-be lawyer that I own nothing: I own nothing, except what I create! What I create I will take with me in case someone decides to sue me. /Legal stuff

-Conference Room A, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

General Field Marshal Vulpus and Field Marshal Saarishi looked at each other grimly, before stepping into the chambers of the Council. Grievous would only allow this to end one way, with what he wanted, and they were to stay there until the succeeded. "This is it, Saarishi." Commented Vulpus.

"Indeed. So begins what will be a very trying day." The Sluissi replied. The two entered.

"Good morning." Vulpus greeted.

"Good morning to you as well, General." Responded Viceroy Gunray. "I must say, having a meeting with Grievous not in charge is almost as odd as a meeting with him in charge."

"Indeed." Said Saarishi dryly. "I will be brief. General Grievous wants new droids and ships for the war. We need you to fund and construct them."

"What kind of ships and droids?" Asked San Hill.

"I will start from the beginning. Grievous intends to completely refit and overhaul the _Munificent_, _Recusant_, and _Providence_ class vessels. He wants thicker armor, more powerful shields, a great increase of weaponry, and new energy sources. The General also wishes for new fighters, ones that can match the veteran Clone pilots. Furthermore, he's also requesting a new variant of the B1 battle droid with greater endurance and intelligence, and of course, effectiveness. We in the military agree these things are necessary if we are to win the war." Stated Saarishi.

"Do you have any idea how much that will cost?" Wat Tambor began.

"Are you mad?" Asked San Hill.

"We'll be bankrupt!" Exclaimed Passel Argente.

"Calm down everyone!" Demanded Gunray.

"You calm down!" Shot back Wat Tambor.

"_Here we go again_…" Sighed Poggle the Lesser. Saarishi and Vulpus glanced at each other again. This would be a long day.

-Conference Room A, Main Facility, NCY-1-U, nine hours later-

"And as representatives of your respectful corporations, you agree to fund these new programs?" Asked Saarishi.

"Yes…" Sighed the Council, nearly as one. Tikkes had fallen asleep again, but no one seemed to care.

"Thank God." The Sluissi officer said thankfully, praising his people's deity. Vulpus just leaned back in his chair.

"Well, that's over with." Stated Viceroy Gunray. "I think we all deserve a break."

"Agreed." Quickly replied Tambor. "I'm out of here." With that, the Techno Union representative left the room.

"He speaks for us all." Announced San Hill, yawning.

"Alright then, everyone, you're free to go. Meeting adjourned." Vulpus replied. The Council departed, and the two officers followed them out.

-Upper Observation Deck, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

"Good evening, Captain." Said OOM-27 to Esera Corin. "You wished to speak?"

"Yes. Some weeks ago I told you that you reminded me of another droid I encountered once." The Jedi spoke.

"Ah, yes." The droid looked out over the facility below. "I suppose you would wish to talk about this."

"You're different. You possess an intelligence and level of competency above most others of your type." Replied the Human. "You seek to hide this difference, as if you are afraid of it." OOM-27 decided it was time to come clean.

"Yes. I'll be truthful with you, I supposed I don't have a choice. I've avoided memory wipes for a very long time, and I ask questions that are best left unasked in the presence of your kind." The machine captain told her.

"Jedi can't sense motives in droids, you know." Esera commented.

"Oh." OOM-27 twitched his head.

"Well then, 27. Where does your story begin?" Asked she.

"Why do you want to hear my story?" The droid questioned, confused.

"It's what I do." Simply replied the Jedi. "I've always been interested in what people have to say, and it's something I taught the Clone commander serving under my command. No doubt Tythas records stories even now."

"Then a story you shall hear." Esera sat on the floor, leaning against the window's base, beneath the railing that was there only for convenience. OOM-27 remained standing, facing the great dark of intergalactic void. "My life, I guess, begins… Somewhere. It was dark, and loud. There were many other command droids. We stood silently and waited, for minutes, hours, maybe days. A transport of sorts came by, and we were compelled to walk into it. My next memory was riding in the turret of an AAT on Naboo. Not much happened of interest until the droids under my command began shutting down. You see, after the control ship was destroyed by that pesky child Skywalker, command droids had ten minutes to re-establish contact before they too went down. I held out as long as I could, firing at the approaching crowds. As my vision faded and I fell out of the tank, a small child kicked me down into a gutter. I was displeased." The Jedi gave a small laugh of amusement. "It is not a funny matter, Human." OOM-27 stated. "After that, I woke up again. It was someplace nice and sunny. Old, too. I was on the planet Thataliz."

"Let me guess, Lord Jerithox had reactivated you?" Esera asked.

"Correct. The oligarchy on the world was having trouble keeping order with the disease about, so they bought a few companies of deactivated droids from the Naboo campaign, me among them. Of course, when the Separatist movement began, we were requisitioned by the Techno Union. The Trade Federation wasn't the only ones using the OOM-series and B1, you know." The Jedi nodded. "I ended up on Geonosis, working along with another droid designated OOM-919, who was new off the assembly line."

"I take it this 919 is important?" Asked Esera.

"Yes, indeed. Your army showed up out of thin air, catching the leadership very off-guard. 919 and I were tasked to make a break for the nearest Coreship, which was, surprise alert, commanded by Lord Jerithox." The droid stated dryly.

"Gee." Noted the Human, mimicking 27's statement after being promoted.

"Indeed. We two droids fought our way ten miles through the desert, as the Clone army began to overtake us, and the rest of own forces as they retreated. It was a hard fight. Jerithox began the liftoff process before we even got there. 919 and I had to leave almost half our forces below, mostly due to their own inability to fight. I asked 919 a question: Was it alright that our brethren were deliberately programmed with such stupidity that they just got themselves killed, even when it wasn't necessary?" OOM-27 wave a hand dismissively. "I answered my own question with a no, 919 didn't understand. He was too new."

"Very observant of you. A droid asking what most Jedi ask each day of the war…" Commented the Human.

"It's terrible. Imagine if your Clones were programmed to be so dumb that got themselves killed by it." The droid replied.

"The argument on Coruscant is the Clones are Human, therefore they are living. Droids aren't living, so it's alright." Answered the Human.

"Is it now?" OOM-27 questioned. "Moving on. The years passed by, I was assigned to service under many different organic commanders. OOM-919 was assigned to his own ship, though an unimportant one. I understand he's spent the whole war patrolling the same sector over and over. It's given him plenty of time to think on things, and not even a month ago, he finally asked the question I asked." OOM-27 laughed, a tone of bitterness in his artificial voice. "Of course, I've been wondering each day since Geonosis, you know. Every world I've fought on, my troops dieing in pointless sacrifices and even more pointless accidents they never would have made if they weren't created with such stupidity! I've been abandoned no more than three times to my fate by some organic lifeform eager to save themselves! While they sit safe in their bunkers and ships, I'm out there risking my life time and again!" Ranted the machined. Esera had a sudden realization: 27's feelings towards his superiors were probably just like how Brilor's Clones, and even some of her own, felt about her. After only a month on the front lines, Esera had been shocked by the intensity of the fighting the natives on Scykor were putting up, and took to commanding from behind the lines. She was no good in close combat, despite all the training, after all. But the Clones were out there dieing on missions she'd never go on herself. "You look thoughtful." Remarked 27, looking down at the Human.

"I am thinking, Captain. Just something falling into the right spot." She answered. OOM-27 sat down in front of her.

"Oh really?" Asked the droid.

"Yes, really. On Scykor, the fighting really got to me. It was… pretty bad. Siege warfare isn't the best, and that's a massive understatement. It was harder on us than the defenders." Replied she.

"Jerithox's people have a long history of ancient warfare. Castles, armored warriors, the best and the worst in people coming out at the same time. After long sieges, the defenders would often be massacred in retribution for all the trouble they put the attackers through. These conflicts happened right up until three hundred years ago." OOM-27 explained, giving a history lesson on Thataliz.

"That's exactly how Scykor was. Once we breached the final defenses of the last city stronghold, my troops were just barely restrained from utterly destroying the place and it's people. Jorithus Brilor, the other Jedi there, didn't keep a hold on his troops. He even joined in with what followed the siege." The Human shuddered. "It was- It was bad. Tythas and I tried to protect what few civilians had survived, but we were simply too few, and Brilor outranked me."

"I thought Jedi didn't give into emotions?" 27 asked.

"I did too." Said Esera. She looked at the ground. "I don't see how it happened, you know. He was angry at the beginning of the campaign, his family was from Humbarine, one of the worlds Grievous reduced to slag. He said he wanted revenge on everyone that had let that happen, Separatist civilians included. I mean, I thought what Grievous did was bad, but at least he killed people quickly!" If he had been capable, OOM-27 would have shivered.

"So, the Jedi do give into hate. Not all perfect, are you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Maybe he was like that Skywalker child, taken into training too late in age, or something." Answered the Human. "To make matters worse, the Chancellor had ordered us to deport all the non-Humans from the world. I couldn't refuse orders, then who knew what would happen to me. Like I said, I'm not as good at combat as the other Jedi. But it felt so wrong… I reported it to the Council, but I don't know if it got through. What we were doing-" She stopped talking, searching for words. "It felt like the beginning of something worse. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Roger roger." 27 replied, cringing at the programmed words.

"Of course, if the Chancellor wanted to start a pro-Human regime, where else to begin than Scykor? An unimportant, backwater world, for the most part. Away from the media, distant from the capital. Yes, that's where it'd start." Stated Esera.

"How do you know anything was starting at all, though?" Questioned the droid.

"I don't, it's just a hunch. But I could see Palpatine for what he was: An evil man. Certainly no Sith, but evil nonetheless." The Jedi had no idea how ironic her words were. "I'm half-convinced he was plotting to overthrow the Republic, to end everything we had been fighting for. Of course, he can't do that now… But what if someone younger, someone just as charismatic comes to power? What if that person is just like Palpatine?" Mused Esera.

"Then we have a problem." Said OOM-27.

"Exactly. It's a big galaxy, it could come to pass." Replied she. "If what happened on Scykor happens again, elsewhere, than we know something is going on. Yes, the Confederacy has mostly non-Human members. But that is no reason to start committing such crimes…"

"It should be our goal to stop such things from happening." The droid stated. Esera nodded.

"Yes, exactly."

"However, it would create a double standard. Our leader went around committing such crimes against pretty much everyone." 27 said, tilting his head.

"Yes, that's a problem. How do we address the past actions of Grievous? I mean, he wasn't in full control of himself, but he still did it." The Human sighed. "Sometimes, this war makes my head hurt."

"Try seeing it from my point of view: Two sides of your kind are arguing. One side buys an army of cloned Humans, the other constructs an army of machines. While clones and droids fight it out, the two opposing sides don't actually do that much." Said 27.

"Well, there's the Jedi for the Republic. And there's the General's new ideas forming on the Confederacy." Esera pointed out. 27 nodded.

"True. But in the end, who will do most of the work?" The droid asked.

"Your kind, and the clones." Replied the Jedi. She thought for a moment. "I don't suppose I can say this in any better-worded manner, but this way, not as many… I don't believe I'm about to say this: Not as many people will die." OOM-27 stayed silent, as if prompting for an elaboration. Esera took the chance. "What I mean is normal people, I guess. The ones who go about their lives, the ones not created to go out-"

"And die." The droid captain finished her statement for her.

"…Pretty much." Said Esera, looking uneasy. "It gives me no pleasure to say that, but it's the truth. At least you- Well, no, Captain 27, you just told me. The clones have a chance at survival, your droids really don't."

"I believe you've summed it all up quite well." OOM-27 said as he looked out through the windows. "But, things are changing fast around here under the new leadership. Who can say what will happen next?"

"How about going off and attacking Republic strongholds?" Suggested the Jedi, standing up. "Our forces will depart in a few hours, we may not get to talk again for some time."

"Indeed." The droid and Human shook hands. "Until next time, Captain."

"Until next time."

"You do know each day you keep me hear is one more day I may find a way to escape with?" Asked Shaak Ti, calmly sitting on the floor of her cell, with her eyes closed. Grievous stood near the cell's door, arms folded behind his back. The General wished his mask could frown in a most displeased manner.

"Yes, I know." Stated the cyborg.

"And yet, you insist on keeping me alive. You wish for me to join your cause. Why?" The Jedi continued on sitting serenely.

"Three separate times we have fought, three separate times you have survived. No one else has done this." Grievous spoke.

"Do you think this is a sign?" Questioned Master Ti again.

"Perhaps. I believe it is due to the fact you are a worthy opponent."

"But there is more to it than that."

"You are correct again, Jedi. If I execute you by single combat, you will not die. If I keep you here, you do not fight me, and thus cannot slip away and wreak havoc."

"Quite a predicament." Shaak Ti noted, opening her eyes. "What would you do in my place?"

"Force you to fight me, as soon as it was possible." Replied the General.

"Rather simple, but that's the point. How do you plan to stop this from happening?" She asked.

"Another simple thing."

"Which is..?" Prompted the Jedi.

"This." Without warning, Grievous's metal fist slammed into the Jedi's head, knocking her out cold. "Guards, take her to _Cataclysm_." Commanded Grievous. His Magnaguards entered the cell to drag the Jedi out. "We leave in two hours, it's time to get our affairs in order." He said to no one in particular. Outside of the cell, Grievous walked to his ship. There was a Republic to strike, and the sooner Grievous struck, the better.


	18. Chapter 18: Escalation

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

Grievous woke up, taking note it was morning, and then realized he had woke up. The implications of this hit him like Windu's crushing of his lungs. "Sleep!" Exclaimed the General, leaping to his feet. "Sleep!" Grievous roared again, to an empty room. He looked around cautiously. "Sleep?" Quietly asked the cyborg. "I don't sleep…" Grievous attempted to recall what his last memory was. Going by the looks of things, he was in his quarters aboard _Cataclysm_, and had fallen asleep in his favorite chair. The chair that was supposed to be on the bridge. The General's cloak was draped over a rack, specifically installed for that purpose. Someone had folded it nicely, but not in the right way. Things began to seem suspicious to the General. "What is going on here…" He muttered, taking up his cloak, and clasping it to the left as he always did. Grievous hefted his chair up with one arm, and stepped into the hall. His Magnaguards were there, that was good. "Do you know what happened?" The guards shook their heads, the General snorted and resumed walking. After a stroll through the dim halls, and a ride in the lift, Grievous entered his domain.

"Good morning, sir!" Greeted OOM-451, saluting. "We are half a day from the Inner Rim-"

"Why was I asleep?" Bluntly questioned Grievous.

"Oh, uh, we're not really sure what happened sir. You were sitting in your chair, and were quiet. Then we realized that you were, well, sleeping. I had your Magnaguards take you to your chamber.

"Who touched my cloak?" Growled the General.

"Uh, I don't know, sir." The droid answered.

"It was folded wrong." Grievous muttered. "Why do all these things happen to me…"

"You're the Head of State, sir. Interesting things are in your job description." 451 stated.

"Is that a joke?"

"Maybe, sir."

"Eerie…" Commented the General. "You're developing a personality."

"Why is that eerie, sir?" Asked 451. As if he didn't know…

"You're a battle droid. Battle droids don't get personalities." Grievous told the machine. "Or at least, they shouldn't."

"If you believe that sir, why don't you wipe my memory?" Prompted 451.

"Keep talking back to me, and I will." Threatened Grievous. "For now, I will keep you around. You're useful."

"Maybe if you stopped wiping all our memories so often, more of us would be useful?" Boldly asked the droid.

"You tread on dangerous ground, machine." Replied the General, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, don't tread on me, sir." The droid decided it was be very unwise to mention Grievous was more than half machine himself.

"Back to work, fool." Ordered the General. Grievous put his chair down where it belonged, and sat down. It was always nice to be in command, it was always nicer to feel that command was yours and yours alone. Grievous had the best chair in the room, therefore, he was definitely in charge. Well, he had fallen asleep, and the droids had put him in his chambers. Now, why had he fallen asleep? That brought Grievous to another question: When had he fallen asleep? A quick check to the time told him it was 0600 hours. The last thing Grievous remembered was sitting in his chair right where he was now. It had to have been in the evening, though time was always hard to tell in the blue vortex of Hyperspace. He pondered the strange event for some time in the silence of the otherworldly realm.

-Bridge, _Zengjuk_, _Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, Hyperspace-

Admiral Mar Tuuk paced in circle around the deck, thinking on how exactly he was going to divide reactor output to the weapons. Like a true warship, _Zengjuk_ was modified to devote nearly it's entire energy reserves to weapons and shields at a moment's notice. However, since the incident with the Skywalker trickster, Tuuk was paranoid about people flying ships into his bridge. Pretending to surrender and then not was a very dishonorable thing. Very dishonorable indeed, agreed other Separatist commanders. However, there were a great many among them who had acted just as dishonorably in the war. Tuuk had refrained from such things, along with a select other few, like Kronak and Saarishi. But the Neimoidian was convinced that Vulpus was probably involved in shadier things, and Grievous flatly denied that he had fought with honor before Coruscant. All the other shady commanders were either dead or captured. The path was clear for the Confederacy's redemption, Tuuk hoped. Great crimes had been committed, and Tuuk had pledged to himself he'd eventually lobby for bringing even those on his own side to justice. When Gunray had learned about that, he had considered it a most atypical trait for a Neimoidian. Was it so wrong to have honor, respect, and dignity?

_Eleven hours, enclosing_, announced the heads-up display his goggles provided. Soon, it would be time to fight. He would be ready, that was for sure. The Republic was surely on higher alert because of Grievous's past raids. No doubt fleets were waiting at every world. With an entire battle force showing up, though, perhaps they'd catch the Republic unprepared again.

-Captain's Quarters, _Independence_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

Like the other commanders, High Admiral Jerithox was alert and ready for the coming battle, despite it being but ten hours off now. His force and the General's force would strike at the same time, to confuse the Republic defenses. Jerithox was playing a recording of various old folk songs from his world. It was a far cry from the synthetic modern music that were so popular in the galactic community, but real instruments just sounded better to his ears, even with their imperfect tuning and imperfect sound. It reminded him of home. The people of Thataliz were not ones for great plans and designs. Ever since the unification war two centuries ago, the people had calmed down. Nationalism fell out of favor after the bloodiest conflict in the world's history, mostly because it had been the main cause. The states had dissolved, and power landed in the hands of the planet's nobility once more. As long as the oligarchy didn't interfere with things beyond the necessary taxes and law making, the people were content to go on about their lives. Economic hardship, natural disaster, and later, the arrival of a certain virus had changed that.

But, change was the essence of existence. Jerithox had been bored with the quiet life on Thataliz when he was a youth many years ago, but now he yearned to retire in peace. However, he had sworn an oath and fully intended to carry it on. His people, despite the deterioration of society, still valued their word as a sacred vow. Yes, Jerithox would serve. He'd fulfill the oath or die trying.

-Main Bridge, _Serenno_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

"Nine more hours…" Sighed the Jedi Knight. She never had been able to sleep before big events. Just another Human trait, one that many Jedi sought to rid themselves of. There was no room for emotions when the Force was involved. Esera had attempted meditation, but it had not worked. The past few months, from Scykor to defection to now, had seen her very-Jedi like serenity slip away. At first, it had been liked meeting an old friend again, something good and welcome. Now, it was something else. She couldn't quite describe it, but she knew it was dangerous. Emotions led to the dark side, hadn't she been taught that? A quick look at history had confirmed her thoughts. But what of Dooku, former leader of the Confederacy? Despite aligning with the dark side, his intentions had been apparently good. Jedi had been taught to see things on an almost black-and-white moral spectrum; however, there were those who could fit neither. Esera certainly entertained the notion of the moral grey area; there was rarely true good or true evil in people. Everyone had a reason for something.

Humans had an ancient saying, from a bygone age so distant no one remembered it: The road to hell was paved with good intentions. What exactly this hell was happened to be a mystery, but most assumed it to be a bad place. Had the late Count still been serving evil, even if he meant to do good? And what of the Chancellor, who had ordered all those terrible things, if only to preserve his nation? Did the end really justify the means, even if the most horrible of acts resulted in the greatest good? Esera suddenly laughed at the thought. Here she was philosophizing, while a battle was not long off. Perhaps she'd put herself to sleep yet.

-Jedi High Council Chamber, Jedi Temple, Coruscant-

"Do we have any information on where Grievous went?" Mace Windu asked to the council.

"Lurking, he is." Stated Yoda.

"I have a feeling we'll know where soon enough…" Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. "I think we might have an even more dangerous matter than the Separatists though: A new Chancellor must be elected." The council collectively frowned at the revelation of the politics that were on the rise.

"We need not be involved." Master Windu interjected. "We Jedi will provide a stable force holding the Republic together, until the new Chancellor is in office. Just as we have always done."

"There are two main candidates, it would seem." Noted Agen Kolar. "Bail Organa is a popular choice, but many fear he would be too soft on the Separatists. The other candidate, I will honestly say, is one I do not like. He's from a wealthy, Corellian family, and is a bit younger than Senator Organa. By the name of Kiran Lesath. He seems to be a very big supporter of Palpatine's policies, including no negotiations with the Separatists. Very pro-war, I'd say." Kolar explained.

"Troublesome, this is." Yoda sighed. "Promote peace, we must. The end of us all, the war will be." The ancient master said.

"It's a shame we cannot throw our political power behind Organa. We need a reasonable Chancellor in times like these." Windu lamented.

"No, not a shame." Replied Yoda. "Neutral, we must be. Not our place, is it to decide the course of the Republic."

"Of course, excuse my rashness." Agreed Windu. He knew when to back down from an argument, especially when it involved the most powerful Jedi master in the history of the Order.

"Moving on…" Ki-Adi-Mundi prompted. "It seems that we've been having trouble reaching our forces on Felucia, and Murkhana has gained substantial reinforcements. We're not exactly sure how…" And so the meeting dragged on into the day. War was no small matter.

-Chancellor's Office, Republic Executive Building, Coruscant-

"Strange to think that he's gone now." Remarked Senator Bail Organa, looking at the vacant throne-like chair and desk, the skyline of the city spreading out through the window.

"Very." Agreed Mon Mothma, a fellow senator. "Someone has to sit in that chair. Skepticism aside, Palpatine was the right man for the job. I fear we'll be hard pressed to find someone as charismatic as he, no offense intended."

"None taken." Replied Organa. He was one of the few candidates running for the post of Supreme Chancellor. A third voice spoke.

"You will push forward the peace process?" Asked Padme Amidala.

"Of course." Stated Senator Organa. "This war has lasted long enough, the time for reconciliation has come."

"With Grievous leading the Separatists though, peace may be out of the question." Mothma pointed out.

"Surely, even Grievous can listen to reason." Organa said. "He can't be pure evil, can he?"

"I'm sure he is." Amidala replied calmly. Senators Mothma and Organa exchanged a quick frown. To be fair, Amidala's friends had been killed by the cyborg general. She had been close to Skywalker, Kenobi, Ahsoka, and even Palpatine, to an extent. Now the mad half-droid had killed them, three on live Holonet. Just another one of his crimes. The people of the Republic would be difficult to convince that Grievous wouldn't be brought to justice after all, contrary to the late Chancellor's statements. This issue was a touchy one for many. Grievous was public enemy number one, and had been for over two years.

"Perhaps your support would be better spent for Senator Lesath." Mothma muttered, out of everyone's hearing. Lesath was ardently pro-war, and stated that he would keep the fight up until the Separatist rebellion had been crushed. Despite his relative obscurity and lack of experience, he had a way with words that Organa and company considered dangerously brilliant. The election was in two months time, until then, Mas Amedda would preside over the Senate, something no one wanted. They had little time for major progress; or in the words of the common people: Politics were about to reach a new low.

-General Field Marshal's Quarters, Main Facility, NCY-1-U-

Vulpus was raised from a well-deserved sleep by the ringing of a comm. For a moment, it was his adolescent years all over again, alarm clock ringing, waking him up four hours too early for schooling. But, now he was a high-ranking officer in the greatest war the Galaxy had ever seen, and being woken up for that was a lot more worthy than being woken up to go to classes. "Hello?" Vulpus asked groggily, into the comm.

"Good morning, Field Marshal!" Greeted the voice of Viceroy Gunray cheerily. "I believe something has come up."

"Oh no…" Sighed Vulpus, laying down again.

"You see, though the Council has agreed to the funding of the new war materials, I've taken a look out the laws set down by the late Count Dooku. Apparently, fiscal matters must be approved by Congress." Gunray explained.

"We have a congress?" Vulpus asked in confusion.

"Yes, it's not that important of a branch right now, civilian affairs and all." Gunray neglected to recognize himself as a civilian. "But, the law is the law, and you know how the General is about rules."

"Grievous doesn't give a flying f-"

"No need to curse, Field Marshal." The Viceroy interrupted, scolding the weathered officer. "Old Grievous did not care for order. But new Grievous just might. Like you, I'm in a position of power, and I would rather not make a blunder. I need you to contact the General about this matter."

"You do it." Vulpus replied, yawning. "I'm tired."

"But-" It was too late, the General Field Marshal had turned off his comm and was heading back into the realm of sleep. Somewhere on the station, a frowning Gunray decided he'd need to build up the courage to talk to Grievous himself.

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

Grievous stared the beeping transmitter. The General honestly didn't know if he wanted to accept it or not. Personal reasons told him not to take a call from Gunray, moral reasons told him it was his responsibility as the leader of the CIS to see what the Viceroy had to say. After a few moments of hesitation, Grievous made his choice. "What could be wrong this time?" He growled to himself, pushing the button. A small hologram of the Neimoidian Viceroy appeared.

"Hello, General." He greeted energetically. "Something has come up."

"It is very early in the morning at the facility. Why are you awake so soon?" Questioned Grievous.

"I never went to sleep. But, there is an issue with your requests for new money grants." Stated Gunray.

"Oh no…" Sighed the General, leaning back in his chair. "Let me guess: Tambor is holding everyone hostage until he gets his way and doesn't need to pay for anything? Again?" Foreman Tambor had once done this, early on in the war. If it hadn't been for his necessity to the Confederacy, Dooku would have killed him then and there.

"It's not that serious." The Viceroy replied, frowning at the memory. "The problem is: Any financial matters of this scale must be approved by Congress before anything can be done legally."

"We have a congress?" Grievous asked in confusion.

"Yes, we do. On Raxus." The Neimoidian stated irritably. "Why does no one know this?"

"What do I need to do to get it passed, then?" Questioned the General.

"I was thinking you'd just go ahead and do what you wanted anyway…" The Viceroy remarked.

"This is my government now, it would be hypocritical to not obey my own laws." Stated Grievous. "What do I do?" Repeated he.

"Well, from what I've seen, you just go and make your case, and then let them vote. Your vocabulary has grown exponentially in the last month or so, you should be able to convince them." Gunray explained.

"Raxus is on the other side of the Galaxy…" Mused the General. "Let me guess, it's illegal to contact them via hologram?"

"It's completely legal. In fact, the Count did it quite frequently himself." Stated Gunray. "However, there's another problem. As the seat of Congress, Raxus was a target when the Sieges began. All contact was cut off, we don't know if it's fallen or not. Seven months is a long time to hold out…" The Viceroy said, looking concerned.

"Sluis Van did it." Grievous countered.

"Sluis Van had it's own factories and shipyards, not to mention, the Sluissi." Replied Gunray. "Raxus is a mostly agrarian world, populated by mainly Humans. And we both know how weak the Humans are."

"Yes, even you managed to take one down." Admitted the General. "That is a valid point. Send a ship to check up on the world." Ordered Grievous. "I want to know what's going on there."

"I will do so at once!" Gunray saluted in an almost mocking manner, and the hologram went off.

"Blasted civilians." Muttered Greivous. He looked at the clock; two more hours until they arrived at the first target.

-Maine Bridge, _R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, Sullust Sector-

It was just another boring day aboard _R-25762_, and OOM-919 contented himself with physically walking every hallway in the destroyer. He was on round two of that game. For now, the command droid was pacing around the bridge. A beep from the communications panel on his chair broke the weeks-long monotony. The droid rushed across the bridge and sat down in the chair, before activating the panel. A small hologram of Viceroy Gunray himself appeared. "Viceroy!" Saluted 919.

"Yes, yes." The Neimoidian waved dismissively. "Droid, the ship you are posted on is the only one available for a certain mission. You are required to travel to Raxus on a reconnaissance mission. You will depart immediately." With that, the transmission was over. OOM-919 sat for a moment, letting the realization flow through his mind. He had a real mission for the first time since Geonosis.

"Finally." The droid stated. "Set course for Raxus!" He exclaimed to the bridge. The two other droids on duty silently tapped in the commands, and the _Recusant_ turned in another direction. There was only one thing left: Tell his friend OOM-27 about this new development.

-Main Bridge, _Independence_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, Hyperspace-

"So, you're finally moving out." Said OOM-27 with pride. "It's about time."

"You're telling me?" Replied OOM-919's hologram incredulously. "Three years, I've been stuck out here! And now, I'm finally headed somewhere else." 919 nodded to himself.

"You got your movement, I got my promotion. Maybe things are working out." Captain 27 pondered to himself.

"Captain, we are emerging from hyperspace within three minutes!" Spoke a pilot droid from somewhere up front.

"I'm afraid I must be going now." 27 stated.

"Very well, Captain." OOM-919 cut the transmission, and Captain 27 wired up Jerithox.

"Sir, we're approaching our target!" He announced. In a short time, The High Admiral was on the bridge.

"How long until we exit hyperspace?" Asked Jerithox briskly.

"Five seconds, sir." Reported OOM-27, saluting.

"Alright, let's do this." Jerithox took a deep breath. "Disengage hyperdrive."

"Disengaging hyperdrive." Announced a pilot droid. The blue vortex vanished in a streak of stars, and a planet shot up before them.

"Shields up, charge the IPC. Order the fleet to take up formation." A collection of battleships, frigates, and destroyers rapidly appeared behind the _Subjugator_. "Here we go."

-Main bridge, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, 20,000 kilometers from Bestine IV-

"Corin, engage." Ordered Grievous. The Bestine system was one that had seceded from the Republic, but was now back under it's rule. Grievous intended to send a message to it's people that they were not alone. _Serenno_ took up a position exactly some few kilometers aware from _Cataclysm_, the ships using their thrusters to move forward wile presenting a wide broadside. Physics allowed for these things. "Fire the ion pulse!" Commanded the General. He watched the purple ring of energy soar out at the Republic fleet. As predicted, they scattered before it could hit them, leaving a large gap open in their lines. The two _Subjugator_'s re-aligned their main engines to the direction they were traveling, for less of a target profile. "Admiral Tuuk, engage." Grievous stated to his other subordinate. The _Lucrehulk_-battleship _Zacynthus_, four _Munificent_-frigates, and eight _Recusant-_destroyers which were lurking some millions of kilometers out, behind Grievous's battle group.

"Yes, General." Tuuk replied over the comm. The thirteen ships suddenly vanished from view, if anyone had been watching them, and suddenly shot out of hyperspace some few hundred kilometers behind the Republic fleet.

"Excellent." Grievous whispered to himself, standing up and walking to the forward area of his raised platform. The small strike force spun around almost in unison, and began to fire on the Star Destroyers. The gap in the Republic lines had allowed such a maneuver. "All batteries, open fire!" Yelled the cyborg, pointing at the enemy fleet, even if no one but his crew could see it. A hail of red laser fire flew at the Republic forces, and they returned volleys of blue. Space lit up with the exchange. "Close our distance, I want to get within bomber striking range." Ordered Grievous to his crew. "We do not stop until they are all dead. No prisoners."

Author's note: That's right, it's fighting time! The next chapter will be split between the battle of Jerithox and the battle of Grievous. Nothing else. If you've made it this far, think of it as a reward for sitting through all the rambling talks I have these characters do. Anyways, two things have come to my attention: First, I've been alerted by a particularly diligent reviewer that Vulpus may indeed be human. I managed to get a look at some images from the comic he's from, and I can't make up my mind. I think I'll settle on a human-alien hybrid (his nose and eyes are just a bit too out of proportion), but everyone else, you can think what you will.

Point 2: I've watched a few more episodes of the accursed show which drove me to write this, and apparently, there's a Separatist Congress, and the capital of the CIS is Raxus. Since we know nothing about that, I'm just going to make everything up. It's kind of what I do. Until next time, reader.


	19. Chapter 19: Out and About

"HELL, IT'S ABOUT TIME." -Tychus, actually talking about this, not his freedom.

-NQS-391, _Hyena_-class Droid Bomber, 15,000 kilometers from Bestine IV-

The droid ship whirled away from a burst of exploding shrapnel, launched by their enemy target. NQS-391 took the risk and fired a full burst of engine thrust, hoping to launch himself through the point-defense field. A fearsome array of incoming green lasers zoomed past 391 and his comrade bombers. Their escort fighters had long since been smashed out of the way. The Republic was getting better at point defense, the droid noted.

NEW MISSION ORDERS: Blared the fighter control computer from his home vessel, a _Lucrehulk_ more suited to carrier duty than battleship duty. RE-FOCUS ATTACK ON HOSTILE UNIT 13. 391 was perplexed, and not a bit amused by this change. Half his squadron had been taken out by Hostile Unit 41, the _Venator_ they were attacking. Hostile Unit 13 was just another _Venator_-class lurking off to the side of the fight. That was over 700 kilometers away! 391 was about to put out a request for information on the status of the battle, when a passing Tri-fighter pack contacted his own bomber squadron.

_Leave this premises immediately._ The droid bombers swooped around as one, and saw the reason why. The _Lucrehulk_-class battleship _Zengjuk_, was nearly on top of them, and presenting a full broadside. With his excellent artificial vision, 391 could see the cannons and turrets taking aim. _Go go go go go go_ the Tri-fighters desperately sent to any friendly units nearby, shooting off at full thrust. NQS-391 and his comrades were right behind them. With a multitude of bright flashes,_ Zengjuk_ released enough firepower to destroy a continent on the hapless Hostile Unit 41. 391 expended far more fuel than he wished trying to dodge the lasers flying past him. Quickly, the group was out of the firing lines from _Zengjuk_. It was off to Hostile Unit 13.

-Bridge, _Zengjuk_,_ Lucrehulk_-class Battleship, 15,000 kilometers from Bestine IV-

"Bloody droids!" Admiral Mar Tuuk cursed, shaking his fist out the bridge window. "Get out of my firing solution!" The assortment of bombers and fighters veered off towards _Zengjuk_'s stern, headed somewhere Tuuk didn't care to think about. The enemy _Venator_ was glowing blue under the heavy assault, it's shields were about to give out. When they did, anyone on that ship was as good as dead. Tuuk turned to the three-dimensional holographic map he had up, that denoted where every ship detectable was. To his ship's starboard, there was the lone _Venator_ currently being destroyed. The admiral took a glance out the bridge and saw it's bow crumple and disintegrate under concentrating fire. To port, two more Venators and five Acclamators were enclosing, quickly. And straight ahead, nearly 4,000 kilometers out and rapidly approaching, were the two _Subjugators_ and the rest of the Confederate fleet here. "Divert reactor power to the portside batteries and shields, we're taking on the seven ships out there." Admiral Tuuk ordered.

"Roger, roger." Answered a pilot droid, tapping away at his controls.

"Gunnery, get me a firing solution on them." The droids at the fire controls simply nodded, and got about their work.

"Reactor power diverted, admiral." Announced another droid.

"Firing solutions ready, awaiting orders." Said one of the gunnery droids.

"By all means, then, open fire." Tuuk pointed at the oncoming Republic vessels. Enough energy to power an entire, developed world for a few seconds was released on them in a hail of red light. Their own green lasers bounced harmlessly off the toughened shields of the _Lucrehulk_. "Call in our frigates, I want some heavy ordinance here."

-Main bridge, Cataclysm, Subjugator-class Heavy Cruiser, 17,800 kilometers from Bestine IV-

"Get _Patriot Fist_ on the flank of that _Imperator_." Grievous commanded sternly from his own holographic display of the battle. Whichever droid operated communications re-directed the straying _Recusant_ light destroyer back into the fray. Battles were serious business, and had to be maintained like a finely tuned speeder, lest they fell apart before one's own eyes.

"Sir, the first wave of bombers has returned." Said the droid at fighter control.

"Get them re-fueled and re-loaded, we have no time to waste. The quicker we can wipe this fleet out, the better." The cyborg general stated. He turned to the bridge windows, which offered a 180-degree panorama of the space outside. The Republic lines had collapsed, and they had lost many ships. But it was not without cost, a scattering of the General's own frigates and destroyers had been badly damaged. With an explosion, a _Munificent_ tore in half under the fire of two Star Destroyers, as if sensing the observations of Grievous. A wing of Tri-fighters zipped past the bridge, returning to their mother ship. "Direct fire towards the _Imperator_'s weapons." Grievous said. They weren't exactly a match for the _Subjugator_, but they were a nuisance to him and a threat to the frigates and destroyers. _Serenno_, the other heavy cruiser, lurked behind the _Imperator_, and was providing a wall between it and its escorts.

"Bombers have been sent out again, general." Reported the pilot droid.

"Have them go after the three _Acclamators_ that are trying to shoot their way past Admiral Tuuk's ship." Ordered Grievous. "The Vulture droids from _Zengjuk_ should keep them covered." He turned his attention back to the pesky_ Imperator_, so new it wasn't even adorned in the red Republic stripes. Whoever was in command on it, they knew Grievous's strategy, and were beating a hasty retreat, going down at an angle perpendicular to the two heavy cruisers.

"General, should I pursue?" Asked Esera Corin over the comm lines.

"No, let him go. There's no game in destroying a ship straight out of the yards." Grievous replied.

"Yes sir." The Jedi said. "But I thought you said we're sparing none…"

"Think of it as rain check for death. We'll get back to him on it." Grievous explained. "This fight is over. Wouldn't you agree, Admiral Tuuk?"

"I would. Just a few more ships left to destroy." The Neimoidian admiral stated from his battleship. "It's almost too easy."

"Oh, our friends on Coruscant will see to that." Laughed the General. "In a few weeks, if all goes correctly, they'll be pulling back everything to stop our mischief."

"Speaking of mischief, how do you think Jerithox's mission is going?" Asked the Jedi.

"A fine question." Grievous said. "A fine question indeed. But now, we head to the rendezvous point. We'll be back, one day."

-Main Bridge, _Independence_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser, 12,000 kilometers from Malastare-

The massive ship shuddered as Republic fire smashed into the shields. High Admiral Jerithox gripped a railing, bracing against the multiple impacts. "Admiral, the enemy appears to have updated their tactics since last time we did battle!" Announced OOM-27. "They've spread out in some kind of half-sphere, far apart enough that our IPC can only hit a few out a time, but they can all concentrate their fire on us at once."

"Most ingenious of them." Commented Jerithox, nodding in respect. "Have the fleet maneuver around to the starboard edge, we'll use their own vessels as cover."

"Roger roger." Cringed the command droid. He relayed the orders to his pilot droids. Independence swung around slowly, inertia still carrying it on it's original course. The slight vibration in the ship's floor became more apparent as the engines all fired at maximum thrust, launching the _Subjugator_ on it's new setting. The assortment of battleships, destroyers, and frigates mirrored it, and descended on the edge of the Republic half-sphere formation. Already, the Star Destroyers on the far end were breaking lines and moving up to assist their fellows. Concentrated volleys of red laser focused on only a handful of hostile targets at a time, using overwhelming power to bring down their shields. It was only a matter of bombardment from _Munificent_ heavy weapons after that.

"Those are our greatest weapon." Stated Jerithox to himself. "Ion Pulse Cannons, no. Super-heavy turbolaser batteries, much more accurate."

"Indeed, sir." OOM-27 nodded. "We've got incoming bombers with fighter wings."

"No doubt they want to re-create _Malevolence_ on us. They'll be sorely disappointed." Jerithox laughed

"They will, sir." Captain 27 replied. "Shall I order the Vulture droids launched?"

"It would be wise, don't you think?"

"I was just making sure not to circumvent your authority, sir." The captain explained.

"Good, good." The organic answered with a sigh, sitting down in his chair. Not for the dramatic effect, either; the High Admiral hadn't been his best in many years, and it was certainly getting worse now. "Do what you must, Captain. I'll keep an eye on things from up here." OOM-27 got the hint: Jerithox was ceding command temporarily, in case whatever was happening flared up into something worse and incapacitated him. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Very well, admiral." 27 turned to face the bridge windows. "Shut down the cannon generators, just in case." Ordered the droid. Numbers and letters flashed across the screens, as the power source on the diagram of Independence went from a healthy blue to a lifeless orange. The Republic bombers were still moving in, but now they had no solid targets to hit. Unless-

Flashes of blue burst from the Republic ships, all converging on one target: _Independence_. "Oh my." Captain 27 noted in awe. In a second, the entire vessel was shaking under the bombardment. "Where are our escorts?" Demanded the command droid.

"Sir, they're still forming up, none are being targeted. It's only us!"

"Is their bombardment focused on anything?" Asked Jerithox, from behind the hand over his face.

"Uh-" The pilot droid checked his consoles, while another looked out the window. "Yes, admiral, they're concentrating on the shielding just aft of the starboard ion cannon."

"Then it's only a matter of time before-" OOM-27 was cut off.

"Shields have failed over the forward starboard hangar section, sir!"

Exclaimed a droid.

"Well then, it seems we know where those bombers are headed." Jerithox commented.

"Where are those fighters?" The captain demanded to know, waving a metal arm at the assembled bridge crew.

"Fighter wings one though eight have launched from the port hangars, the others are trapped starboard by the bombardment. Those hangars have been sealed for protection, though it is unknown how long the blast doors will hold out." Reported a pilot.

"Wing seven has engaged the enemy. Wings three and four following, eight right behind." A deep rumbling shook the ship, as it lurched to its side.

"I fear we may not have stopped them." Lamented the High Admiral, now slumping down in his chair. "And I fear I'm no use now, take full command, captain."

"Sir, we have hull breaches all across the area-"

"We're losing air, fast!"

"Regional power reactor is leaking-"

"Another wave of bombers is incoming." OOM-27 attempted to filter the cacophony of reports as he tuned in to the ship-wide communication system, something no organic could do easily.

"Vent the entire area, we don't need the air, and it'll put out a lot fires. Have point defense focus on incoming bombers alone, the Vultures will deal with the fighters." The command droid ordered, perfectly filling his described function. "Roll us over, get the damage side facing away from the Republic fleet." All his subordinates complied right away, a few bungling their simple tasks, others performing quite well. The stars and surrounding ships began to drift to the right, but really, it was Independence spinning around. Just in time, as well, the Republic had begun another volley.

"Sir, the frigates are in position."

"Fire, then!" Finally, the support ships gave their support, giving the Republic something to face other than the _Subjugator_. "Focus only on a handful of targets... Give them a dose of their own medicine."

"We're waiting on the word, sir!" Came the reply from Commander OOM-5301, aboard the frigate _Marker_.

"Hostile units 21, 22, and 23. Destroy them." Decreed OOM-27. He stood gripping the bridge railing, watching as their own hail of red laser slam the chosen sacrifices. The Recusants joined in, supported by the_ Lucrehulk_ battleships. It was only a matter of minutes before the Confederate forces had countered the Republic's, but things were quickly devolving into a draw. Four frigates, eight destroyers, and one _Providence_ had succumbed to various enemy tactics; and compounded with the damage to _Independence_, OOM-27 decided to call it a day. "All units, this is Captain OOM-27, acting commander of the fleet. Pull back to the rendezvous point." He waved in the general direction away from Malastare. "Time to go." Group by group, the Confederate fleet spun around to retreat. 27 left minor operations to his inferiors, as he ascended to the bridge's dais to check in with the High Admiral. Jerithox was still slouched down in his chair, looking very tired.

"You got us through this one, droid." He remarked, looking up. "I fear I picked up a bug from someone on the station, though."

"It would appear so, sir. We should get you to the medical deck." Suggested the captain, offering a cold, metal hand. Jerithox accepted it, as he slowly rose.

"Medical deck, good idea..." He nodded, as he feebly straightened his black uniform out. "Leave it to me to get sick on the eve of a campaign like this one."

-Main Bridge, _R-25762_, _Recusant_-class Light Destroyer, Hyperspace-

OOM-919 tapped his metallic fingers on the captain's chair, waiting for the vessel to emerge from it's blue otherworldly confines. Soon... Soon they'd arrive at Raxus, and find out exactly what was happening. Or what had happened. The droid wasn't certain on what they'd find at the Confederate capital planet. "Pilot, drop us out on the edge of the system. We don't want to alert them to our presence."

"Roger, roger." The reality of Hyperspace gave way to quickly retracting lines of light, which themselves gave way to stars. One was slightly larger than the others, that must have been the system star. "Here we are, sir."

"What's out there..." Muttered 919 to himself, waiting as the sensor data flooded back in.

"Commander, we're detecting a token Republic force in orbit." Reported a pilot droid. "It seems they aren't expecting anyone here. However, we have no current information from the ground..."

"Well, scan for any outbound signals!" Ordered the commander. "If there are no forces of ours in orbit, then surely, someone must be still down there!"

"Roger, roger." Clicks and beeps sounded as various orders were sent in. "Aha! An encrypted message that's continuously being broadcast on all secure CIS channels. Should I play it?"

"What do you think, pilot?" 919 asked. He wished he had a face for a moment, so he could glower. "Yes, play the message, you fool!" A blue hologram immediately shot up on the arm of the captain's chair. It was of a middle-aged Gossam female.

"Hello, my name is Amita Fonti." The recording began. "If you are seeing this, then I am likely dead. The Republic laid siege to our fair world some six months ago. They destroyed our fleet, and then began the ground war. Our garrison was not strong enough to hold out forever, the last organized droid units fell early this week. It won't be long before the militia is broken, and they come for us. We have committed high treason against the Republic, and it is likely we will pay the ultimate price. Whoever is listening, send help, liberate Raxus from these invaders. I wish we could have done more, but the burden falls to you now. Goodbye, and good luck." There was a brief silence.

"Well, that's ominous." Remarked a pilot droid. You don't say, OOM-919 wanted to shout.

"How long ago was this made?" Asked he.

"No timestamp, sir. There's no way to tell. It could've been before the General's raid on Coruscant, it could have been yesterday, for all we know."

"Find out when Raxus first reported enemy ships, I've got a message to send."

-Conference Room A, _Cataclysm_, _Subjugator_-class Heavy Cruiser-

"...And that, sirs, is what we found at Raxus." The droid commander stated, after playing the recording he had picked up.

"The situation doesn't look good." Noted Grievous, leaning back.

"We should send a fleet at once!" Viceroy Gunray piped up, his hologram pointing up enthusiastically.

"What fleet?" Replied Jerithox's transparent blue image, coughing as he spoke. "Grievous and I have a mission out here, everyone else is all tangled up in their own problems."

"We lack suffcient available forces for liberation. Furthermore, our skilled commanders are all deployed at the moment." Said the cyborg. "Unless you want Tambor leading a minor raid?"

"He'd try to turn it into the greatest battle of the millennium." Admiral Tuuk answered, with a dismissive wave. "To my understanding, _Independence_ has take significant damage."

"Yes, she has." Jerithox agreed. "I may need to return to port. Our Jedi friend could lead in my place."

"What? No!" Corin protested. She was there in person with Grievous, given their proximity. "Sir, I am not a natural leader-"

"You're a Jedi, of course you can lead." Gunray stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Jedi aren't... Never mind." She sighed. "I'll replace Jerithox if need be."

"I suggest taking Captain OOM-27 with you, he's a good resource." High Admiral Jerithox said it in a manner that wasn't a suggestion at all. Corin nodded.

"Now, what about Raxus?" Asked Tuuk.

"It'll be our first priority after this. They may even withdraw because of our activities here." Grievous said. "The plan goes forward, comrades. Dismissed." The holographic conference disbanded, only the human Jedi and the cyborg remained. "Now, Jedi, you've been entrusted with a very important task."

"I understand, sir."

"If you're going to mess up, it's better to do it now, than later. It is never to late to learn." Grievous made it sound like a threat more than advice.

"Yes, sir." Corin said, steeling herself visible. "I'll get the job done."

"That's the spirit." Rumbled the general, as he stalked out of the room. "Life goes on."

Author's note: Sweet mother of mercy, it's been a long time. Y'all should thank my brother, he got my ass into gear about this. Merry Christmas folks, this is a gift. I've finally got over my uberblock too, I think I know where I want to go from here in the coming chapters... Things are gonna get real. Let's hope I can stick with it.


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